A merry ballerina with a tragic story and a sad genius with a tragic past. It's a match made in heaven. Is that the reason why they are that drawn to each other? What happens when secrets resurface? A small fluffy to brighten every phans day. EOW/EO...
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A month later, between seeing Melissa and preparing his house, Erik had forgotten everything about Christine. Never had he dreamed he could be so fickle. But it was not the case, he admonished himself. No, it was not the case! When he looked at Melissa he felt warm and drunk, like drinking the finest of wines. He had almost ruined Christine, for crumbs of her charity. But Melissa... He never asked for anything, she gave so much, and in earnest!
But whenever she asked about him, he dodged. And he knew now almost everything about her.
He still couldn't understand what she saw in him... And had no courage to ask.
He knew Melissa was probably waiting for an opportunity to corner him and ask her 'twenty questions', and dinner today must be it.
Oh, it would be so special. Erik wasn't much of a cook, an ability he could never master, but he would order food from the best chefs in Paris! He would say romantic things! Play and sing for her! What a night it would be!
He had gotten rid of his coffin. And couldn't stand the sight of his Don Juan Triumphant.
That song didn't represent him anymore. He saw the glint in Melissa's eyes whenever she was with him and realized she felt longing to be touched by him. "She was definitely not normal. But then, what is 'normal'?", Erik concluded. Her behavior made him uncomfortable on more than one occasion, but he never said anything.
He was getting used to being seen by the mirrors of her eyes.
888
They were running, hand in hand, laughing, like two crazy lovers to Erik's Lake House. He took her by the passage of Rue Scribe.
"Garnier was certainly a genius to build an Opera House on a lake!" she remarked, staring at the darkness of the water by Erik's porch, getting too close to the edge.
"He certainly got smug about it," said Erik, pulling her away. "But I told you, I built this place. Come in, meet, I mean, see my home!"
He had never been so nervous in his life, stumbling upon words.
Melissa thought while she walked around... She could understand why he lived underground. His life must not have been easy.
But there was something amiss.
There was a woman in the living room.
"Christine!" exclaimed Erik, "Whatever are you doing here? Did something happen?"
She was staring Melissa with blue, glacial eyes.
"Mademoiselle Daae?" inquired Melissa. "I don't believe we have met."
"Anglais? Good, good! I hope, mademoiselle, you know where you are getting yourself into, oui?"
