Between Mirrors and Roses (A Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction) ✓

9: Somewhat Friends

Christine

I woke to the sound of lilting notes coming from the organ in the parlor. I recognized the tune, but couldn't name it. It sounded almost like a lullaby.

I washed and changed into day clothes. After a stint of aggravating coaching from Erik, I was now able to manage the corsets by myself. I hated relying on him for everything; I felt like a leech. At least he let me pay him a small fee for the food I ate.

Our kisses still lingered in my mind—the first rushed and thoughtless, the second slow and deliberate. How often had I imagined kissing Erik? Years ago, after first seeing his musical, I was enchanted by the idea of him. And now, here I was, living the fantasy I had only entertained on dark nights, pouring myself into his books and a few brilliant phanfictions.

I hadn't known what I'd wished for all those years ago when I'd imagined being with Erik. He was messy and unpredictable. But he was also wildly intriguing. I was drawn to him—to the excitement of each day discovering more of his alluring complexities.

Yesterday he had left me alone with no explanation, but he came back and seemed to understand that he was in the wrong. I still wanted him.

My thoughts took unexpected turns as I meandered through the morning, eating breakfast with Ayesha curled up at my feet. Did people date in this day and age? I thought that they merely courted, or asked for someone's hand, and that was it. A girl certainly didn't have serious boyfriend after serious boyfriend, unless she wanted unsavory things said about her in the ever-flowing stream of gossip. Were Erik and I dating? We had kissed, but nothing more.

Mellow music continued to drift in from the organ; Erik had been playing for quite some time. I made him a cup of tea and carried it to him, guessing that he had had nothing to eat all morning. He stopped his playing when he saw me and took the cup gratefully.

"I didn't know what you liked in it, so I didn't add anything," I said.

"It's perfect," he said, taking a sip.

I leaned awkwardly against the organ, trying to appear cool and collected. I doubted it worked. "I have to go to rehearsals earlier today than usual," I said, "because we are just starting Ill Muto and there's so much to do. But soon I won't have to go nearly at all since my character has no speaking or singing."

"That's fine by me. You are welcome to pass as much time as you wish here." Erik put down the tea and resumed playing, then paused and turned back to me. "Are you happy here?" he asked.

I considered the question seriously before answering. "There have been times when everything is overwhelming, and yesterday I was very upset at you. But I'm not anymore. I love spending time with you; I love singing. I would say that overall, yes, I am very happy." I smiled at him to show him I meant it.

He reached for one of my hands. "I want you to be happy, Christine," he said. "I want it more than anything."

I smiled at him gratefully and squeezed his hand. I had to leave then, but I promised I would be back as soon as rehearsals were over.

I took the tunnels to the chapel. After descending two flights of stairs, I'd rejoined the horde of cast and crew that trafficked the central part of the theater. On the way to the stage, I ran into Raoul, dressed in a bright white and gold jacket that looked like a piece of the opera house's molding.

"Christine," he said, "I've been looking for you. I was worried after you left the theater yesterday. Are you well?" He looked genuinely concerned for me, and I thought that maybe I had been too harsh on him before.

"Yes, Raoul," I replied. "Thank you."

"I wanted to apologize about not giving you the role of Countess," he said. "In the end, it was the managers' decision, and they refused to do anything that the ghost impostor told us to."