The Leading Lady (Phantom of the Opera x Reader)

Chapter Eight

She had underestimated the darkness of the hallway Erik came through everyday. Without other option, and adrenal still in her veins, she decided to just shout for him.

"Erik! Erik, please!"

It was an unfeminine shout for sure, and made her feel like a small girl screaming for her father when she was lost in a crowd. She was then discouraged by the lack of sound in response. She dropped on the ground, leaning against the mirror, and could still hear the man's drunken shouts and pounding on the door.

She began hearing sharp breathing, causing her to quickly stand, and before she knew it, a gentle hand laid itself on her shoulder in the dark.

"What's wrong?" Erik.

"A man tried... there is a man banging on my door and I don't know what to do. He's scaring me, and I didn't know where else to go." Y/N spoke quickly, and was almost scared Erik wouldn't understand what she was saying. He had. He had been listening to her like his own life was dependent on it.

Erik brought his hands up to her face, carefully drying her tears with his gloved hands.

"Stay here a moment, I will return shortly."

With this instruction, he opened the mirror, stepped out, and gently closed the door on her. She could hear her bedroom door opening, a loud sound of impact, and then silence. She could feel the blood pumping through her body, causing her to heat up and shake. Her head pounded, and she was somewhat scared that the sound of impact was not one in Erik's favor.

Just before she was about to consider stepping back through the mirror, Erik opened it and motioned her through. She was shaking, rather violently, prompting him to take off his cape and wrap her in it, then sat her down on the foot of her bed.

He pulled her desk chair towards her, taking a seat across from her.

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

"I... I was t-trying to send a letter to my father..." Y/N couldn't look at Erik, so she looked at her trembling hands, "And he came up behind me and pushed me against the wall. He was... touching me... and I hit his nose very hard and ran to my room. He followed me, so I locked the door and just..."

She didn't need to finish. Erik nodded.

"His name is Joseph Buquet. He is known for that... sort of thing. I have made sure he will not bother you again. Is there anything else I can do for you, Y/N?"

"I would rather not be left alone, if it isn't of any inconvenience."

"Come with me then, I was in the middle of something," Erik spoke gently, standing and helping her up. He then led her through the mirror, and they made their journey down the tunnels. He kept his hand on her lower back at all times, carefully guiding her through the pitch black. She wondered how he managed to see in the darkness.

Soon, they saw a light as the tunnel opened up to the waterside below. Erik assisted her into the boat, being as gentle as he possibly could. She was still so shaken, and seemed smaller then usual.

As soon as they arrived to his home, he helped her out and onto land. He sat her down on a small wooden loveseat, and turned into the kitchen to begin a cup of tea for her.

Y/N sat semi-catatonically, staring off in deep thought. She was assaulted tonight. Barely a week without her Papa and the protection of Christopher and she was almost harmed in ways that could forever change her. How could she have been so unprepared for this?

She didn't even register Erik until he was trying to place a cup of tea in her hands.

"Thank you, Darling," Y/N spoke, looking up and into his eyes.

"'Darling'?" Erik questioned softly, sounding genuinely curious.

"Sorry, force of habit," Y/N smiled, "I call my Christopher 'Darling', and usually he does this sort of thing."

"Christopher? A fiance?" Erik's voice ran a bit cold then.

"No! No, dear God no. Christopher is my father's second hand, he's family. I haven't a fiance," Y/N said, cradling the teacup.

"Good," Erik said, sitting across from her.

"Good?" Y/N said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Good," Erik reaffirmed, sipping his own cup, and reclining in his own chair, an elaborately carved throne-esc chair.

"Alright then," Y/N smiled, calmed a bit by his presence, "What were you in the middle of? Before I so rudely interrupted."

"You may interrupt me anytime," Erik spoke, his voice as controlled as he could possibly make it, "I was working on some designs for an architectural project."

"You're an architect?"

"I was, once upon a time. It was my life's dream, but alas. There were things that... made it impossible."

"Such as?"

Erik was quiet for a moment, "I wear this mask to conceal a deformity."

"Yes, but you wear the mask constantly, do you not? What difference does it make if you do or do not had some minor birth defects?"

"They are not minor." He spoke simply.

"Look directly at me," Y/N said.

He did so, out of curiosity if not anything else.

"You're so handsome on the half of your face that is visible, that I believe your birth defects -- however bad they may or may not be -- couldn't possibly overshadow your true face. I mean, the sharpness of your jawline and the depth of your features are... they are art," Y/N spoke without flattery, and instead with sincerity. She meant what she said as fact, not as compliment.

Erik didn't know what to do with that, so he sat there, dumbfounded, staring at her. Y/N reached out onto the coffee table, picking up one of his designs for a magnificent town home.

"This is a gorgeous design, very... Gaudi-esc. Not his showy work, but it reminds me of Bar Torino. So extravagant, many details."

"You... you're a fan of architecture?" Erik's throat was unnaturally dry.

"Of art in general, it is a passion of mine. Don't ask too many questions, or I'll embarrass myself," Y/N laughed.

Erik was falling in love with her as she sat in front of him. Of course she was beautiful -- he knew that already. He also knew she was kind, and gentle. It was obvious. But now, he knew she was smart.

"Well, I am flattered by your feedback, but it is just a simple home. Something to keep the pocketbooks heavy."

Y/N looked up to Erik, suddenly smiling, "You're rather strange, you know? Scary at times, kind at times, handsome at times, though you insist you are ugly. I know I shouldn't feel at ease with you, but I do. I'm not sure what to make of you."

"I don't know if I like being studied, Mademoiselle."

"Now, now -- don't get so French on me. Call me Y/N."

"Y/N," Erik nodded solemnly. He had to really fight to avoid smiling.

"I thank you for allowing me here. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience."

"You are never an inconvenience. I am happy you called for me, or else I fear what could have happened."

They sat then, quietly, drinking tea in an amiable silence. Erik forgot his architectural plans, and simply focused on her — her soft skin and her beautiful hair, and the way she cradled her cup of tea in two hands as if it were a far more fragile thing than it was.

Perhaps an hour went by — two more refills of tea, which Erik offered her — before she turned to him, and whispered to him: "I am ready for bed, do you mind escorting me?"

"Not at all," Erik nodded, standing to lead the way for her. The two walked side by side, beginning the journey up to her dormitory.