A/N: Hey guys! So Fanfiction.net hasn't been working for me (like it won't let me log in) so you lucky ducklings on wattpad get to read first! This chapter is kind of just a filler and the next one might be similar but i'm not sure yet (I just don't want to jump into things too quickly). Anyways, sorry for the long wait! School as well as life in general has kept be busy, so i had no time to write. Also, I'd like to apologize if the writting style is a bit off in this chapter! I have to get back into the flow of writing this story in this style. Sorry if it's not as detailed/too detailed compared to other chapters! Please let me know though so I don't compare future chapters to this one. Thank you guys so much! Don't forget to vote, favorite, and leave plenty of reviews! <3
I’m not completely sure why, but my face-to-face meeting with Erik had left me flustered all throughout the following day. It wasn’t as if we had a long, heartfelt conversation when we were both standing behind that mirror. We simply recognized each other’s existence, and then Erik politely excused himself after leading me out from behind the mirror. I’m not sure why he left then. Maybe he had something better to do. Or maybe it was the fact that I kept staring at him in complete awe that he decided to run off to who-knows-where.
I did feel a slight pang of guilt about continuously gazing upon him, but I simply could not stop myself. I think I’m getting ahead of myself, but it was as if I was witnessing the presence of an angel. Before our meeting, I had only heard that sweet melodic voice of his. To see a face that matched that voice perfectly had left me a little stunned. I was curious if I would see him again when I returned to the Prima Donna room.
In terms of Erik’s opera, rehearsals had apparently been going quite smoothly. Of course Carlotta had managed to make the conductor boil with rage every few measures, but I guess that was normal. Unfortunately, I was not present for any of the rehearsals for Don Juan, which almost saddened me. I longed to hear the notes that Erik had written down so effortlessly, yet so passionately. I was determined to watch the entire opera from the shadows of the theatre, as I normally do. I had always greatly appreciated music, but ever since I had heard Erik’s angelic voice, it hadn’t been the same. I longed to hear the notes more and more as I felt the music seep into my very being with every rhythm that floated through my ear.
I was giddy when I made my way into the Prima Donna room. I almost skipped to the mirror when I felt that presence almost immediately after I stepped into the pink room.
At first I stood in front of the mirror, a few steps further away from it than usual, unsure of what to do. It would seem ridiculous not to speak face to face, wouldn’t it? I pursed my lips, unsure of what to say. I started off by putting my old wooden bucket and cloth down on the carpeted floor next to the mirror, and decided to remain in my kneeling position in front of it.
“You can come out, you know.” I said, fighting back a smile as I continued to stare at my reflection in the clear water in the bucket.
I continued to stare down at my rippling reflection when I heard no sound but the sliding of glass, and the shifting of clothing. That’s when I let a fraction of the smile reveal itself on my lips.
I turned around quickly, eager to see Erik’s face once again, and I was not disappointed. There he sat, upright in an armchair almost halfway in the shadows of the room. Most of the candles in the Prima Donna room were extinguished, leaving the main source of light to be the sunset seeping through the window on the opposite wall. The shadows cast by the dimming sun molded Erik’s face to seem sharper, and darker. But the shadows were light enough for me to see through them, and to see his eyes. I mentally scolded myself for blushing when our eyes met. If Marie had been there, she would have pulled me out of the room by my ear right after she kicked Erik just between his legs.
I couldn’t help but become mesmerized by his eyes, though. Though they were dark, I could see the thoughts and ideas swimming through them- in that deep brown pool that seemed to go on forever, and I loved that.
That’s when I noticed I was staring. I blushed even further, and looked down to my lap. I realize now that I should have stood up and found a proper seating area in the room, but my body simply did not want to move.
I decided that I wanted to initiate conversation with Erik, but how? Do I simply say hello, and ask how his day had been? Do I ask a personal question? I took a short breath, getting ready to at least commence with a greeting, but I was interrupted.
“I know what you’re going to ask.” He said simply, almost with a touch of bitter sarcasm.
This took me by surprise for the moment, and I truly was going to correct him, and tell him that I was only going to say “Hello”, but I decided I wanted to hear what he’d thought I would have said.
“Oh?” I asked, urging him to go on.
“It is the same question every time, even if it is not said directly to me.” He replied, almost as if it was a hint.
I raised my eyebrows in response.
“Why do I wear a mask?” He said, as if the question sounded overused and boring for his own tongue to pronounce.
To be completely and utterly honest, I had never given the white porcelain mask much thought. Yes, I did notice it, but I had originally thought of it as his personal business. Plus, I had met him face to face for the first time on the night of the Masquerade ball, so it wasn’t strange for him to be masked. It laid on the right side of his face, while the left side was uncovered. There was obviously much work put into the mask, as it was perfectly sculpted to match each contour of the left side of his face. The only feature of the mask that seemed unnatural was its stark white colour, and the fact that the eyebrow shape was pushed down, making the expression on the right side of his face seem constantly angry and intimidating. I did not understand this, as the brow on the left side of his face seemed relaxed at the moment, not angry nor intimidating.
“Actually, no.” I said, slightly amused that he would think this. “Why do they ask you?” I asked him, almost teasingly.
He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at me, making the mask shift slightly from the movement of his face. “Some would argue that it is a… prominent feature of mine.” He stated simply, as if he had to explain why the question was completely valid.
I disagreed. “No, it’s not.” I said, almost more seriously than before, but still maintaining a drop of amusement. “A feature of yours would be your eyes, or your smile, or something that was a part of your being. That mask is most definitely not a feature. It’s more of an….” I paused for a moment, “accessory.” I said with a slight smile.
If it was possible, Erik’s brow burrowed even further down, while he looked at me with such confusion. He planted his elbows on the arms of the chair while he folded his fingers under his chin. He seemed to be deep in thought, and didn’t speak for a few moments. I just wish he hadn’t chose me to stare at for those few minutes of silence, as I felt myself blush even deeper.
“I do not understand you, Isabelle.” He finally said, as if it was a perfectly clear conclusion to his thoughts.
I replied with a smile, “And nor do I understand you, Erik, but that is a start.”
A/N: A start to what my dear Isabelle? What did you guys think! Did you guys like filler chapters like this one? I'm trying to decide if next chapter will be a filler with Marie or Erik (or both), but I guess you guys will have to find out! I'll try to update sooner, but no guarentees! Also, I made two sketches for what Isabelle COULD look like (I'll try to get them uploaded soon). There is no one way that Isabelle can look like so let your imaginations run wild! i was just doodling this while I was listening to some music, and who knows, I might do another doodle that looks totally different! Anyways, don't forget to vote, favorite, and leave reviews! Thank you guys so much!<3
YOU ARE READING
Mirrors
Fanfictionabout the Phantom of the Opera and a maid that just happens to always clean the mirror in the prima donna room... (I do not own the cover photo!)