Like Father, Like Son | Phantom of the Opera

xxviii. A Betrayal

OCTOBER 1919

ADELE

I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room, sighing as I realized that it was getting too late in the morning for Nadir to continue sleeping. It was almost half-past nine; I had been up for over an hour and a half and had yet to eat breakfast, as the two of us usually ate together. By that point, though, I was considering just eating on my own and leaving the newspaper for Nadir to find before I left to run errands. At the same time, though, I knew he would only worry if he woke up and didn't know where I had gone. Not that he felt I had to tell him where I would be - Nadir was far from that kind of man - but he was simply too worried about me to think that I might be in a scenario where I might be hurt. It was sweet, truthfully; I adored his kindness.

What I did not adore was his attachment to our bed, particularly when I was awake and hungry. Determined to put a stop to it, I set my book aside and made my way up to the bedroom to wake him. Walking to his side of the bed - always the right side - I couldn't help but smile when I looked at him; his hair was a mess and I could tell he would have to fight to control it once he got up. The collar of his shirt was askew and I could tell that his face was a bit swollen, so all in all, he looked like a bit of a mess at the moment, but I loved him nonetheless.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I gently ran my fingers through his thick black hair, though it was slowly being overtaken by the grey hair that had been filling in bigger patches recently; by that point, there was about a half-and-half combination on top of his head. I noticed little wrinkles by the corners of his eyes; smile lines, I hoped, though I knew frowning and serious expressions were the more likely culprit. From what he had shared of his past thus far, my heart ached to know all that he had suffered, but I had made it a personal goal to make enough beautiful memories with him to push the tragedies he had faced aside.

"Nadir, darling, you have to get up," I said softly, moving my hand from his hair to gently stroke and tap his arm. "It's late, you can't keep sleeping."

A moment later, he started to stir and yawned as he did, but didn't open his eyes. Instead, he reached up, wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me down to lay beside him. "Not yet, love," he murmured, still sounding half asleep, what with the gravelly roughness to his voice.

I rolled my eyes and gave him a light smack on the shoulder to try and get him to let me go. "Nadir, come on," I said, only to sigh when I felt him pull me closer to his chest, that action alone serving as his response to what I had said.

"There we are. This is much more comfortable," he said. "Far superior to you just sitting next to me."

"Mm, yes. I suppose," I said, sighing to tease him despite the small smile on my face.

"You know it is," Nadir replied, managing to nuzzle himself closer to me, his face tucked into the crook of my neck.

I shrugged slightly. "It's alright, I suppose." I was determined to tease him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had uprooted my original reason for coming upstairs.

I felt him lift his head and could tell without even looking that he was trying to read me. "Well then. This should improve things," he said before he leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"Perhaps it does improve it a little bit."

"I'm slightly offended, love. I thought it would be perfect with me here."

"I'm teasing you, don't be stupid. It is perfect here in your arms, you know that," I said, setting my hand over his where it rested on my waist.

He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck and I could feel him smiling when his lips lingered for a moment. "Good. We can stay here as long as you want."