Mirrors

Blush

A/N: Hello! I'm not too proud of this chapter, and I wasn't very happy with how some stuff turned out, but I wanted to post something today, because I know I'm going to be busy over the weekend. It's kind of another filler, but our dear Isabelle seems to be getting some new thoughts in her head that you get to see briefly. I hope you guys enjoy! Don't forget to favourite, follow, and review!3

The following day went by quickly. It was one of my slower days, so I did not have to do as much cleaning as usual, so I found myself taking my time everywhere I went, admiring the opera house. Usually on a slow day, I would have gone outside to walk the streets of Paris, or perhaps watch the clouds in the park, but things were different that day because I did not want to be late. Towards sunset, I found it necessary to find my way to the Prima Donna room to meet a certain opera ghost.

I'm sure he would have understood if I could not attend our usual meeting, but just the other evening, we had had a face-to-face conversation- something that was completely rare for us. And, for some reason, I was positive that we would see each other, face-to-face once more that night.

I made my way to the Prima Donna room as the sun started to soak through the massive windows in the halls, creating shadows on the intricate statues that made them seem almost life like.

A smile burst on my face when I found Erik already in the same chair as before, waiting for me when I quietly slipped through the doors of the Prima Donna room.

"Hello, Erik." I said through a grin.

"Hello, Isabelle." He replied easily.

I could not help but stand there at the entrance of the room for a moment to admire the scene laid out in front of me. There he was, just like yesterday, except more... natural. It was almost relaxing to see him there, leaning back in his chair with his hands in a prayer position placed neatly under his chin, like he belongedthere. In the sun soaked room- with me.

I shook the intruding thought from my head when I realized that I must have looked like a fool, standing there, and staring at him. I noticed then that I do that a lot- staring at him, and I made a mental note to try and stop myself the next time.

There was a fully functional cushioned chair directly across from Erik, but it just seemed too far away from him, so I sat on the floor in front of the mirror like yesterday. We remained in that position for a while, just seeing each other. It could have been considered as "looking", but "seeing" seemed to be more appropriate, as that was what was happening. It was like we were seeing each other in a whole new light. It was that strange thing like when you first see someone, and you think that you have their face completely memorized, but you really don't, and you only realize that the second time you see them- and, oh, how different he looked this second time. It was as if he was a part of the opera house. Somehow, him and the opera house were connected, and it was beautiful. Not beauty in the sense of what he was wearing or how his hair looked, no. It was that strange and fascinating natural beauty.

I decided then that the silence had been enough, and so I began to speak.

"So," I started, informally, "do you remember, a long time ago, when I asked you about the song I had heard you singing in the ballroom?" I questioned.

"Yes, I do recall that question." He said with a slight smirk.

I let the silence give him the rest of my question, and he seemed to catch on quickly.

"Ah, you would like an answer?" He asked.

"Yes." I said with an excited smile.

He took a deep breath, and while he exhaled, the smirk was replaced with a slight frown, but soon returned to a faint smile when he turned his head to look at me to answer my question.

"One day, I will show you, Isabelle. One day."

My conversation with Erik ended all too soon, when he politely dismissed himself as he had "matters to attend to". It was then that I remembered that Erik had the reputation of being the infamous "opera ghost". I also remembered his appearance at the Masquerade, and his introduction of Don Juan. It was a strange thing to think about. He was a man known for threatening and murdering, yet I had just had a civil conversation with him less than ten minutes ago.

I ate quietly as I thought about Erik that night while the other maids around me at the crowded dining table continued to chatter about what went on in their days. Marie, however noticed my silence, and that's when she asked why I was blushing.

A/N: Oh Isabelle... So what did you guys think? Did you like the style of this chapter? I'm not sure how, exactly, but it just seemed a little different than my other chapters. I know this one's definitely shorter, but I think it takes place more in the current rather than Isabelle's thoughts? I'm not sure, but tell me what you guys think! Next chapter will be another filler (ish). I edited my plot outline for this story, and i had originally only planned to have only 11 chapters, but it looks like it's going to be extended!:) I just didn't want to rush the plot so I'm just taking my time. So, once again, please let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Thank you guys so much!3