Chapter Six || Shadows Have Ears
Mélodie
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux (what do you want)?" I began searching the kitchen for leftover food.
"I am not hungry," the Phantom, or Erik, awkwardly sat at one of the tables. He was reluctant, but he had followed when I asked him to join me in the kitchen.
"Soup it is then. I hope you like tomatoes," I began preparing his soup while my mind sorted through all the questions I had for him.
The kitchen was silent except for the occasional bang of pots. Everyone in the opera house was asleep - but not Erik and me.
My mother would have a fit if she knew I was alone with a man right now.
I sat down the bowl of tomato basil soup in front of my silent companion and took a seat across from him.
"He probably raped her."
I felt momentarily uneasy as I watched him stare at the crimson meal.
I played with the fabric of my robe, "You didn't kill me."
"Ah, you noticed," he looked up at me with an arrogant expression.
I gave him a look, "There is no need for sarcasm."
"There is always a need for sarcasm, my dear."
I ignored the butterflies that appeared in my stomach when he said "my dear". I pushed his untouched bowl closer to him, "Eat. You look like a walking skeleton."
"Do not be disrespectful, child."
"How can I respect a grown man who acts like a child? Do you not see the irony in a, as you say, 'child', trying to get a grown man to eat his food like a mother tries to feed her offspring their vegetables?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "Eat or I will make you eat."
His eyebrow quirked up and I could have sworn I saw the corner of his mouth almost twitch into a smile. Slowly, he picked up the spoon, "If the chef insists."
At least I got him eating. If he didn't start eating I wouldn't have a clue what I would do to "make him eat". What is that expression? Is it "their bark is mightier than their bite"?
"Can I ask you something, Erik?"
He took another spoon full before replying, "No."
"What happened that night? The night you took Christine?"
I could see him roll his eyes in the dim light, "I brought her down to my lair, I sang to her, and then I took her."
I nodded my head slowly, trying to picture it all. He was half way done with his soup when it sunk in, "Wait. You 'took her'? You mean like - you -"
"I took her purity," he said it so casually! Like he was only saying he took her laundry out to get washed!
"You raped her?!"
He wiped his mouth and sat back, "Ofcourse, child."
The chair I was sitting on almost fell over when I stood up, "You raped her?! I can't believe you did that! You - you -"
There were many names I wanted to call him at that moment but couldn't bring my politeness down enough to say them. I went on a rant about how I couldn't believe I had defended him all this time and how I felt like such an idiot. When I had finished I looked back over to find him - smiling. He was smiling. Why was he smiling? He shouldn't be smiling! That was not the reaction I had hoped for!
He stood up from his place at the table and took his time making his way over to me. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have minded my own business! Like the Americans say, 'curiosity killed the cat'!
My back hit the wall as I tried to move away from him. Who would have thought that the man I had dreamt about all these years would be the man to end me.
Mélodie, you fool!
The Opera Ghost placed his hand on the wall beside my head and leaned down close to my face, "You, my dear, are too easy."
I shut my eyes tight and tried to calm my heavy breathing, "What do you mean?"
He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against my hair, his warm breath tickling my ear.
I whimpered, "Please, if you're going to kill me make it quick and painless."
He gently pulled on one of my curls and said in a low voice, "I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to thank you."
My heavy breathing stopped and I faced him, "Thank me?"
There was a smirk on his face that I could see better when he pulled away, "Yes. For the supper. It was most delicious. And to think if you hadn't chided me I would never have tasted such a wonderful dish."
He walked back over to the table and sat down. I wanted to slap that amused look off his face. The scowl looked more becoming on him.
"But - but you said -"
"Non (no), your red headed friend said I had raped Christine. I knew that if I had even suggested I had done such a horrendous thing you would have immediately believed me. I was correct, was I not?"
"O-oh. You heard us?"
"I hear everything in this opera house, Mélodie."
I bit my lip, unable to stop the blush that came over my cheeks.
"What you said was true, I could never hurt my angel," he ran his hand over the table, a frown returning to his face. "Hurting her would be like hurting myself."
My heart ached at his words. They hung so heavy with sadness.
"Could you take me?" my voice came out as a whisper. He looked up at me and cocked his head slightly to the side, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Stuttering I quickly added, "To the lair. Could you take me to the lair. Your lair."
He stood up and pushed his chair to the table, "Perhaps."
"Do you promise me?" my voice sounded so hopeful I almost sounded juvenile.
He walked to the door of the large kitchen, "Perhaps, child. Perhaps."
I felt a smile creep onto my face.
When Erik got to the door he stopped and faced me, "Goodnight...Mélodie."
I was left smiling at the ghost of his presence. Even though he couldn't hear me I whispered, "Goodnight, Erik."
And then I remember what he said earlier, "I hear everything in this opera house."
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Soooo I feel this chapter is a little short. I'm trying to lead up to the big parts so I suppose these are kinda fillers. I'll try to make the others longer!