Chapter Seven || Playing With The Shadow
Our late night suppers became quite frequent after that. If he had tried to miss one I made sure I scolded him enough so he wouldn't try to sneak out of one again.
Eventually, as the weeks passed, I noticed his clothes fit a little tighter. It felt gratifying knowing my attempts at re-nourishing him were paying off.
I noticed a change in his face as well. It looked wider, his prominent cheekbones no longer razor sharp, his eyes no longer hollow. He almost looked younger. More like the man I had first seen when I was a child.
"They work you too hard."
I squealed at the voice from the shadows, "Erik! I told you not to do that!"
"Why are you angry whispering? There's no one here but you and I," he stepped out of the shadows and examined some of the spider webs.
"I'm 'angry whispering' because you startled me half to death," I picked up the broom I dropped. "I cannot understand why you find that so amusing."
"Well, I am the Opera Ghost. Aren't ghosts notorious for scaring people?"
I laughed, "I suppose so. I merely thought you would refrain from frightening the person who feeds you. If I have a heart attack and die you would go back to being a living skeleton."
I did my best to push the dirt into a pile, my hair falling out of my bun and tickling my nose.
"You don't have to do that you know," his voice was low and quiet.
I stopped to redo my bun, "Do what? Sweep? If I don't sweep I'll get fired. I thought you were the genius out of the two of us."
He almost gave a small smile, "No, I meant feeding me."
I took a deep breath and tried to relieve my aching back, "Did you not see how you looked when you went years without me feeding you?"
His lips twitched again, still not giving in to a full smile, "I don't deserve your kindness."
I gazed up at him, his green eyes refusing to meet mine. I gently spoke, "Everyone deserves some kindness, Erik. You of all people would know that."
When his eyes finally looked into mine my breath caught. Before I swooned I said, "What doesn't deserve kindness is that spider on your shoulder."
His eyes grew wide and he frantically clawed at his cape.
My broom fell again as I doubled over laughing, "It appears that ghosts are not the only ones who enjoy scaring people."
I held onto the railing of the walkway so I wouldn't accidentally plummet down to the stage below. My sides were sore from laughing so hard.
"Mél? What are you laughing at?"
I quickly pulled myself together at the sound of Violette's voice. Erik had retreated back into the shadows by the time Violette's red hair appeared.
"Vi. I just thought of something funny, that's all," I gave her a breathy smile, pushing away a strand of hair that had already escaped my hair pins.
She looked around, searching for something I hoped she wouldn't find, "If you say so, Mél. Eva's dress ripped again."
"Oh," I leaned my broom against the railing, "Alright. I'll be down in a minute."
Violette searched once more before turning to leave, "Okay. Don't be long."
"I won't," I let out another tired breath.
"You'll pay for that spider trick later," his voice was right beside my ear making me jump again.
"Oh hush, Opera Ghost. You're just worried I'll steal your spotlight," without looking at him I grabbed my broom and made my way down the wooden staircase, swaying my hips as I walked. If my hearing serves me right, I might have heard him chuckle.
* * *
"Happy birthday tooooooo....yoooooou!!!" the entire group cheered as Violette blew out her birthday candles.
Vi was all smiles and she thanked and hugged everyone. Ever since our discussion about the Phantom we haven't been as close as we had been.
From the way she looked at me I could tell she still worried about my feelings for the assumed dead Phantom of the Opera. She meant well, I knew that. She just didn't understand.
But tonight we carried on like we had normally did. Almost inseparable. I say 'almost' because with Violette's gregarious personality I couldn't keep her to myself for long. Soon enough I was left standing alone by the cake, happily watching as all the men got their turn to dance with the fiery red head that is my best friend.
I picked at my slice of cake, thinking. My family came to my mind and the memory of my last birthday with them. Truly I had enjoyed myself, but even amongst all those people, I felt alone. Alone at my own birthday. I hadn't fit in there. It wasn't for me.
Now, being in the warm atmosphere of the opera house, surrounded by the boisterous crowd, I felt content. I belonged here.
Something caught my eye and I smiled. Picking up another slice of cake I made my way up the narrow stairway that lead to the roof.
I set both plates down on the roof's ledge, rubbing away the cold that nuzzled up against my bare arms. It hasn't snowed yet but we all knew it would soon. Nothing is more beautiful than Paris covered in the white purity of snow.
A heavy black cape surrounded me. It was about four sizes too big for me but I had the feeling that my protests would be like talking to a brick wall.
"You mustn't catch cold," Erik arrived in my peripheral vision.
I inhaled the scent on his cape. Parchment, candles, and roses. An intoxicating combination.
"What are you thinking about?" I turned toward him, taking in his presence while I thought over his question.
"A lot of things, I guess. Things that would surely bore you," I squinted a little due to the setting sun.
"I couldn't possibly find you boring, Mélodie," his deep voice caused a bundle of warmth to form inside my chest, making it swell.
Before I could let my mind get carried away I handed him his slice of cake, "I hope you like chocolate. Maurice and I spent hours baking it."
I laughed, remembering Maurice's black hair nearly white with flour.
"Who is this Maurice?" Erik furrowed his brows, taking his first bite of cake.
"A friend of mine," I glanced up at him and giggled at his skeptical expression. "Jealous?"
"Hardly," I giggled again and he turned back to the view of Paris, his eyes smiling even though his lips refused to.
I leaned my elbows on the barrier and absorbed the warm sun and crisp air. I never want to leave here.
Erik set down the empty plate and I studied his profile. That strong nose, those eyebrows that were almost always furrowed as if he was constantly in deep thought. Knowing him he probably was constantly in deep thought. Behind that handsome face is a brain more genius than fifty brains combined. The sun reflected brightly off his white mask. I never want to leave here. But I knew that soon, too soon, I would have to.
"How old are you, Erik?"
He let out a grunt, "Is that why you've been staring at me? Trying to figure out how old I am?"
My cheeks grew a deep shade of red, "I - I was just-"
His chuckle rumbled low and deep in his chest, "I'm old enough."
I messed with the strings on his cape, "You're great at being specific."
A smirk played on his lips, "How old are you?"
"Old enough."
"Oh you're fantastic at being specific," I giggled at him.
I picked up my plate of abandoned cake, "When is your birthday?"
"Je ne sais pas (I don't know), " noticing my sad expression he added, "It doesn't matter."
"Ofcourse it matters! Just think, I could bake you another cake! And Maurice could help me," I winked at him and licked some icing off of my finger.
"You better tell me more about this Maurice. That boy better be nice to you." he leaned one elbow on the roof's barrier.
I laughed and walked away from him, exaggerating the sway of my hips, "My goodness, the Angel of Music is quite strict."
I looked over my shoulder at him and my face dropped. All the previous playfulness had completely vanished from his face. He now stood there with his back slightly hunched and his eyes downcast, examining the gloves he always wore.
"Oh, Erik, I'm sorry. I...I completely forgot," he didn't say a word as I walked back over to him.
I hadn't even thought about Christine and the fire for the past few weeks. How could I forget?
"Here," I took off his cape and reached up to drape it over his shoulders. "You must be freezing."
I secured it and made sure he was covered well. I didn't realize he had been staring at me until I looked up, "Better?"
He gave me a small nod, making me smile.
I poked at my cake again, still feeling his eyes on me. So that's what that feels like.
A moment later I felt the cape over my shoulders again. Only this time he hadn't taken it off. Instead he brought me close and wrapped his arms around me like a cocoon. A safe, warm cocoon. I shut my eyes, savoring his warmth, his smell, his closeness. It vaguely reminded me of the dreams I used to have and that sketch I had made.
His chest rumbled against my back as he spoke, "Do you not like the cake? You baked it."
I stabbed the deformed cake again, "My cooking isn't extraordinary."
"You're right. It's not extraordinary. It's beyond that. Far beyond ordinary and extraordinary."
I chucked, "Oh please. I'll get a big head."
I picked up the plate, examining the tortured remains of my cake. My finger poked at it and I twisted my neck to look up at Erik.
He looked down at me.
I looked up at him.
Then, as if a light turned on in his eyes, he said, "Don't even think about i-"
Before he could finish his sentence I had smeared the dark chocolate all over the unmasked side of his face.
I ran to the other side of the roof with the plate in my hand, "What was it you had said to me?" I tapped my chin pretending like I couldn't remember, "It was something about how if we were playing a game I would lose in a heartbeat."
His eyes grew dark and a smirk twisted his lip.
I rubbed my sticky fingers together, "It was something like that. I had someone's hands around my neck cutting off air supply so I might be wrong. Can you remember?"
When I looked up from my disgusting fingers the roof was empty. My eyes searched the roof for his dark figure. It was quiet. Too quiet. The hairs on my arms stood up, "Erik?"
Nothing.
Mélodie, you are genius to pick a fight with a phantom.
"Eri- AH!" the cake that was once on my plate was now splatter all over my neck and chest. "That...that is really disgusting."
Erik stood behind me with a proud look upon his face, "Remember the spider."
I bit back a laugh. Turning to face him I spread my arms wide, "Erik, dearest, we've known eachother for a while now. I think it's time we hugged."
He began backing away from me, one hand out to stop me if I came too close, "No, Mél, I'm sorry. I take it back. Mélodie."
Ignoring his pleas I kept advancing on him, "And I'm not talking about some meager phony hug. I'm talking about a huge bear hug. Erik. Come here, honey. That time in our friendship has come. Don't try to fight it."
He dashed behind one of the statues and I chased after him, our laughs floating away with the winter wind.
* * *
I quietly closed the door behind me, hoping not to wake Violette.
Tiptoeing I started toward the water bowl. If I didn't wash this sticky cake off me soon I would scream. After much chasing I still lost, just like he predicted. He had me pinned to the ground yelling through my giggles, "I surrender!"
I blushed, the pit of my stomach warming as I thought of Erik on top of me.
Don't be silly, Mélodie. You could never replace his Christine.
I felt a pang of jealousy then. I could never be Christine Daaé.
My spirits were lower as I walked back into our room now dressed in my night gown and ready for bed. I jumped slightly when the lights turned on. Violette was sitting wide awake on her bed.
I let out a breathy laugh, "Vi, you startled me."
"How long?" her arms were crossed over her chest, her face in a scowl.
"Pardon?"
"How long have you been seeing the Opera Ghost?"
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*intense organ playing* DUUUUN DU DU DU DU DUUUUUUUUUN!