Lost Melody

Love Is Pain

Just outside the drawing room, Camellia ran into Mozart, who silently led her down into the gardens. Camellia wondered if le Comte knew that he had been outside, after all, Mozart's footsteps were very quiet. "Are you going to take up his offer?"

'I said I would consider it.' She shuffled her feet.

"It would be a good opportunity," said Mozart, looking away into the gardens. The wind gently lifted his bangs before settling them down again. "Especially if le Comte is backing you. What were you back in your time anyway?" He tilted his head, as though he had just though of asking that.

'Singer.'

His eyes widened slightly. "So you were..."

'Part of the entertainment industry?' she offered.

"Let's go with that." He paused, as if debating his next words. "There's no way you could sing if you'd lost your voice. How did this happen?"

A shudder involuntarily went through her, and he held her by the shoulders. "You don't need to talk about it."

'I want to,' she said, before she told him the full story of a young girl with high hopes, who had gotten caught up in a scandal and had lost everything.

"Gossip can take people down even in the future," he murmured to himself. "So you lost your voice from psychological trauma."

She nodded.

"What was your dream?"

A small self-mocking smile touched her lips. 'To sing a song that could move the hearts of thousands of people.'

"You'll get there. Even if you break some glass and ears along the way," he added as an afterthought.

Camellia stuck her tongue out at him, and he gave her a sideways smile. She noticed that despite the smile, he was rubbing his throat, as though it was making him uncomfortable.

'Are you thirsty? Did you drink your Rouge today?'

He nodded. "Of course, there's no way I would forget with you bringing it up for me, but..." His eyes widened in realization. "Ah."

Camellia tilted her head questioningly, but he shook his head, hidden pain in his eyes. Without another word, he turned on his heels and headed back into the mansion, and Camellia was left to stare at his retreating back.

There was no way he'd forgotten to drink the Rouge when it was sitting right there on his table, right?

Camellia shook her head. He'd definitely be able to take care of whatever it was.

✮✮✮

She woke up in the middle of the night, an uneasy feeling in her chest. A quick glance at the clock showed her it was only 12 am, but something was wrong. It took Camellia a second to realize that there was no music in the mansion, meaning Mozart wasn't at his piano. She headed down to the kitchen to get a glass of water, wondering where he'd gone. Mozart was in the kitchen, surrounded by three empty bottles. If he were human, she would've accused him of being drunk, but these were bottles of blood.

Leonardo had once told Camellia that both Isaac and Jean occasionally suffered from cases of bloodlust, for different reasons, but no one had told her Mozart did. He was leaning against the counter, his breathing unsteady. Camellia walked up to him, her footsteps echoing in the silent kitchen. He turned in her direction, his violet eyes flashing wildly.

"Get out."

'No.'

"Leave now," he growled.

Camellia took a step back before shaking her head. 'What's happening?'