Beneath the Porcelain Mask

5. In Sleep He Sang To Me

"In sleep, he sang to me,
In dreams, he came.
That voice which calls to me,
And speaks my name."
~ Christine Daae

Andrew Lloyd Webber, The Phantom of the Opera.

~•~•~•~■~•~•~•~

I tossed my empty bucket and sopping cloth into the storage room and let the door swing closed with a halfhearted flick of my hand. Something in my lower back cracked and seethed as I turned to trudge back down the hall towards the few dormitories the Opera House had going for it.

I hissed and placed ginger hands just above my bustle. Why exactly had I signed up for this malarkey?

Oh...

Amid the haze of my mind, half awake and half asleep, I found myself hauling myself down a fifth flight of stairs, maskless, and groaned. Why had I come down here exactly? I scolded myself for walking right past my bed, but it was too late to turn back now.

If I found my fourposter full of monkey hair, I'd–

Well, sleep would be in order, that was a given, but then I'd have Erik's guts for garters!

~•~•~•~■~•~•~•~

"Kitty Cat, Kitty Cat, where have you been?" Erik greeted me fifteen minutes later as I practically dragged myself into the Lair and shot him a deathly glare. "You're the worst sight this night that I've seen!"

"Opera Ghost, Opera Ghost, don't be so mean. I've been upstairs making your Opera House clean," I snapped back, not caring whether I rhymed properly or not. He chuckled, sitting up straight in his seat at the organ. Composing, no doubt, even at this stupid hour of the night. Why didn't that surprise me? I rolled my eyes and decided not to question his body clock.

Erik's eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on my face and he opened his mouth. I held my hand up, continuing my walk towards the bedroom.

"Erik, I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm going to sleep. Wake me up in three days, please."

Then came something I never expected. Erik twisted in his seat with a look of horror and was up in a flash, dashing over with his long stride and catching me by the shoulders.

"You can't sleep here tonight, Kitty!" he hissed, trying to tug me away. I snorted and fought his grip.

"What the hell? That's my bed, what are you-"

"Please!" he hissed, twisting me to look him in the eye. "Just go back upstairs!"

I stared at him. Go back upstairs? Could he not see how tired I was? Ignorant child! I yanked myself out of his hold and turned, taking the steps up to my room two at a time.

"Kitty!" he hissed again, coming straight after me. I ignored his attitude and opened the door with a firm turn of the doorknob. Erik drew a sharp breath as I stepped inside.

I almost screamed.

"Oh!" someone yelped. It moved to clutch a robe to its form. I stumbled back. The mask returned to my face in an instant.

The It in question was a woman.

A silence to end all silences crashed down upon my bedroom. We stared at each other in abject horror, as if we were both an apparition to the other.

Erik swallowed behind me and gestured to her.

"Nikki," he started, his voice dry and cracked, "this is Mlle. Christine Daae. Christine, Mlle. Nik–"