A few days after I arrived in the lair, I persuaded Erik to let me get up and roam around. I was feeling much better other than a little bit of soreness. I was going stir crazy laying in bed. I also smelled rotten, so I needed to take a bath. I was going to have a hard time getting used to the limited access to clean water.
"Erik," I said as I emerged from what had become my bedroom. I slept in the bed similar to the swan bed I had seen in the movie. "Erik," I called again.
He didn't answer, so I walked quietly out of my bedroom and found Erik sitting at his organ. He was wearing a loose white dress shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks with a cummerbund and damn was he attractive. He was muscular, but he was also sickly thin. It was a bizarre thing to witness.
I stood behind him as he played a beautiful melody on the organ. It must have been ecstasy for him as he swayed and breathed to the music. Finally, he finished with a long sustain on the organ that vibrated in my chest, "That was beautiful," I breathed.
He was slightly startled by me, but he turned around to look at me. To my surprise, he had a smile on his face, an expression I had never seen, "Thank you."
"Would you teach me?"
"Surely. Come here," he said.
I went and sat down next to him. We were painfully close. It was a struggle not to completely fall head over heels in love with him. I knew this was a real person and not a fictional character, but I felt like I knew him so well. I had grown attached to the Phantom through the years. Like any typical musical geek, I fell in love with Phantom when I was thirteen and related to him as I faced the difficulties of high school and middle school. His deformity and mask were my acne and makeup. His lovesickness for Christine was my lovesickness for my crushes. I found solace in the Phantom. To be sitting next to him now was unfathomable.
As if the tingling butterfly sensation in my stomach wasn't bad enough, he stood up and told me to move to the middle of the bench. Then he stood behind me and placed his hands on top of mine. His fingers were long and bony, and his hands felt like ice on mine. I shivered. "Apologies," he said quietly, "My hands are always quite cold. I've grown accustomed to it."
"It's fine," I giggled, "I just thought you placed ice on my hands for a moment," I looked up at his face which was right next to mine.
He cleared his throat and guided my hands over the keys as I played a beautiful little tune. When the song was over, I smiled, "Well, that was fun. Would you teach me to play for real?"
"Yes, I could do that. I think you should go get some rest. You are looking a little tired."
"No," I whined, "All I've done is rest."
"Caroline," he lightly scolded, "You have a head injury. You need to rest."
"Then sit with me. And I refuse to go lay in my bed until it's actually nighttime. You must have a sitting room."
He shook his head, "You are very stubborn.