A Woman's Devotion (Phantom Of The Opera x Reader)

7. And Then It Went Poorly

Y/n's POV:

I attempted to clear Jonvier from my thoughts, but it was a worthless attempt. Once I'd knocked down one thought of his dark and dreamy hair, another one cropped up about his perfect dress sense. I found myself giggling like a schoolgirl more than I cared to admit, even to myself.

Throughout April, May, and June, I continued my backbreaking domestic work in the Rousseau home. Still, my private life at home was my solace. Erik and I would arrive at our apartment after a long day, though on Tuesdays and Fridays, we got home after a mind-numbing English lesson. Then, I'd make a simple dinner of stew or a baked potato with plenty of butter. Erik thought my cooking was to die for.

 "What were you eating at the opera?" I asked after my curiosity got the better of me.

 "Oh, of course, Madame Giry brought me premade food. Bread, cheese, the works. It was never warm. Come to think of it, these are the first warm meals I've had in decades."

 "So she was your accomplice!"

I stood from my chair, suddenly emboldened. Erik continued to eat and hardly reacted to me. He looked up at me almost blankly, yet Erik could rarely appear apathetic with all the thoughts racing through his head.

 "You didn't know? And, please, return to your seat."

 "Madame Giry always denied it, so I assumed it was just a rumor. Does Meg know?"

 "She shouldn't. I expressly told that woman not to tell her daughter or her ward."

He glared into his soup bowl at his own mention of Christine.

 "Meg didn't know. But, trust me, she had theories."

We sat in silence for a moment, as I mulled over his words in more detail. He hadn't had a warm meal in decades? No wonder he thought my mediocre cooking was gourmet.

 "I never knew you weren't eating properly." I put my hand atop his. "Maybe you'll gain a little weight and stop looking so... boney."

 "One can hope. Nothing can help my previous situation now, as it's already been mended with you. Still, I appreciate your concern."

We lingered in an almost melancholy silence. I hated it, so quickly, I found a way to end it.

 "The opera was... hard. For both of us. But it wasn't all bad. Remember when you taught me ventriloquy, Erik?" I giggled. "It was so much fun."

Erik reddened a shade, even as a smile quirked his lips upward.

 "I do, and I remember being mortified after teaching you the basic principles of the craft."

 "The moan!" I cried. My giggles burst into laughter, and I added, "oh, I was so embarrassed too! Still, you were an excellent teacher."

▪︎▪︎▪︎

After dinner, I washed the dishes in our small sink and put them away in the cupboard. We changed into our nightclothes, and Erik placed the chair in front of the door. We both finally got into bed. Erik spent about ten minutes reading some philosophy book he'd gotten from the library. Finally, he laid down beside me. He held me around my waist and pulled me into his chest.

 "I love you." I mumbled under my breath.

 "Y/n, you saved me."

 "Saved you?"

I nestled my head into the crook of his arm.

 "Had you not kissed me, I wouldn't be here now to hold you." He said, his breath fanning my neck.