The Night Part 4

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"Damn you!!" He cried out, covering the offending side of his visage.  "Damn your prying eyes, damn your curious soul!!  This is what you wanted to see??!!!  How could you love me, how could you see the man behind this.. this monster?!?"

He fell to his knees, tears streaming between his fingers.  

She stood there, trembling.  What she had seen... how could she unsee it?  Those scars, how horrible to live with such a face?  So distorted, deformed; it could hardly be considered a face! Her heart pounded with fear and a wretched disgust at what she had seen.  He began to speak again.

"This face... curse this face.  It earned my mother's loathing to the point she gave me mask, a scrap of cloth to cover what she considered the work of the devil. Her fear caused her to send me away.  The only caress I have ever known," he glanced up at the mask laid bare on the floor at his beloved's feet, "was the caress of that cold, hard prison."  He sighed.  

A thought came to him.  If it's all she sees, she can learn to accept me... she can learn to love me.   Trembling, he walked over to her and leaned against the wall, his despair plain on the exposed side of his face.  She leaned over and handed him his mask.  He put it back on, smoothed his hair back and sat back at his piano.  

She didn't know what to say.  She went to the bed, that beautiful swan bed, and sat down.  She put her face into her hands and cried.  She knew she was afraid of what she had seen but what she had heard from him tore hear heart into pieces.  

Music floated across the room to her ears.  He was playing again, losing himself and the memory of recent events in his song.  His beautiful song.  She felt herself drifting with the music, the sad melody pulsing through her body.

Her nerves recovered, Christine rose from her seated position on the bed and walked over to her Teacher.  No matter the horror behind his mask, he was still her darling Tutor, her Angel of Music.  



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