Between Mirrors and Roses (A Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction) ✓

13: Two Vastly Different Men

I normally don't like interrupting the story with notes, but the greatest of thanks to everyone who has stuck with this! It means so much to me as an author to see people appreciating my work. Don't make me beg for comments; they make my day! =}

Side note: If, since I've been updating the chapters, the text fumbles and skips and gets messed up, removing the book from your library and adding it again should fix the problem! 👍

Christine

The next morning, I left Erik in my bed and went to the bathroom to change my bandages, wash my face, and get dressed for the day. Then I proceeded to the kitchen in search of sustenance.

Erik reclined at the table, sipping tea and reading a newspaper.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," I replied. "A great deal."

Erik looked pleased and went right back to nursing his tea. I waited for him to mention last night, but he didn't. Even when I thanked him for keeping me company, he gave me a polite, "You're welcome," and that was all.

Well. I suppose it doesn't mean anything to me, either—sharing a bed, I thought bitterly. I hadn't expected him to suddenly declare his love for me or anything, but I would have liked some acknowledgment of the intimate moment.

I was a little irked, but I tried not to show it as the morning progressed. The pain from my cramps had blessedly died down. Backstage, during a break in which my character wasn't needed, I sat out of the way, put my chin on my fist, and thought.

Where was this relationship going? Erik kept his identity secret from the world, living down in the pits beneath the opera house. Was there any way for him to return to society? He would have to if he wanted to marry someone, wouldn't he? Or would we carry on like this forever—the pair of us hidden away like recluses?

I didn't want that life, with no friends or other people to talk to. As great as Erik was—and I was very attracted to him—I just couldn't see him providing a stable home. And did he even want to marry? Or would he grow tired of me as soon as the novelty wore off?

Contemplating marriage wasn't high on my Things I'd Love to Do list, but I was getting along in years by the standards of this society. I didn't see myself returning to the modern world. It was time to consider my future here. As much as I hated thinking it, perhaps marrying Raoul was the smartest decision I could make. He was rich—so I'd live in comfort—and handsome, which was more than I could say for many of the other men I had seen around here; and even if a marriage to him wasn't perfect, it was infinitely preferable to living on the streets. He seemed to admire me, so at least there would be some affection in a relationship.

I shut my eyes against this unsavory line of thinking: I would dwell on it later when I had a clearer head. For now, I resolved not to push Raoul away any longer, but to keep him as an option in case necessity demanded. Which is why I accepted his offer, later that day, to take a walk around the opera house grounds.

I was uneasy as we started down the gardened path, arm in arm. I kept glancing around for Erik, expecting him to jump out at any moment and condemn me a traitor.

"Are you all right?" Raoul asked me. His amber hair curled away from his face in the latest style, and he wore an expensive coat and trousers. I felt like a daisy next to a rose.

"Yes, yes," I assured him quickly. "It's only rather cold, is all."

Without pausing a moment, Raoul whipped off his coat and let it rest around my shoulders.