The Demon's Child and the Phantom

Chapter 10

Rosella's POV:

I have settled into a comfortable routine with Daroga. Every morning I wake up, get ready for the day and go with him to the Opera house. I have grown more confident looking up at Daroga, Madames Giry and Madeline, and especially Erik. I still have not looked at my appearance in a mirror though. Daroga knows that I avoid mirrors, or at least I think he does as the mirror in my room is covered by a towel. However, even if he has noticed he hasn't said anything, for which I am extremely grateful.

After arriving at the Opera house each morning, I assist the costume maker, Madame Madeline with repairs on the costumes. My talents at sewing are finally paying off, and she doesn't mind my eyes or my somewhat strange habits. After we finish the general repairs I go down to the water and wait for Erik to meet me after calling his name. Sometimes he is there waiting for me with the little boat or gondola. Once with Erik, I listen to him play on the piano or the violin as he composes the music and sometimes just plays for fun. Little do we speak to one another, rather we both enjoy his music together in silence.

His music has so much more emotion than I could have ever thought possible in a song. I can tell when he's angrier than usual, when he's upset, when he's happy, and when he's sad. I hate that music the most because I don't know what I can do for him. I want to comfort him, but he shouldn't have to bear me touching him. I know that his mask is hiding his deformity from me but it's his eyes that I watch the most. While I can blank my face and hide behind it, his eyes and expressions always give away his emotions. I know mine do not for I have worked on keeping them empty of emotion as often as I can.

It's strange that we're similar in the way that we hide who we are or what we feel behind a mask, each seemingly wanting the other to take off the mask. Though of course for Erik it's a literal mask where for me it's my ability to blank my emotions that cover my face. Neither of us seem use to a gentle touch either, as we both seem to stiffen or stare in shock when it happens, though of course I could be reading him wrong and he be staring in disgust at me instead.

Today was much like previous days with Erik. After lunch, I met him at the stone steps of the lair and he helped me into the boat. Soon, I was leaning on the divan, listening to Erik play. He's happy today and the music that comes from his head is light and cheerful sounding. I smile as he plays and I lean my head back, some of the hair falling away from my face as the melody picks up in tempo.

The song ends and I expect another one to start but am surprised when after a few minutes of silence I open my eyes to find he's sitting at the organ bench staring at me. I sit up straighter and begin the ever continuing battle with my training and what I want to do as I look at him and the floor. My smile being replaced by mask of emotionless. He soon stands and takes a slow step towards me before speaking in that velvet voice of his.

"Rosella, who taught you to stare at the floor with such intensity?"

I felt myself tense at the question, knowing the memories it would bring up would only lead to another nightmare to be had later this evening. I saw him take another step towards me before I forced myself to look up and meet the gaze from his beautiful golden eyes. I took a deep breath and made sure my emotions were in check before answering him in the calmest and surest voice I could muster.

"That's a long story Erik. Are you sure you would want to know?"

"Yes, Erik wants to know."

"Then I believe a deal is in order."

"What kind of deal?"

"A deal among of friends. I tell you my past, and you tell me yours."

"Friends?"

"I understand if you do not want to be friends. Few do with me."

"No, Erik would like very much to be your friend."

I feel my face burn with a slight blush as he says that and the surprise I feel over him being my friend is intense. He often speaks of himself as if he's another person, and I've come to wonder if he isn't. He is both the Phantom and Erik and depending on who you are speaking to could determine whether you survive. Erik is kind and warm and soft-spoken, while Phantom is hard and as cold as ice when he speaks in a harsh and clipped tone. Yet neither version of him had come anywhere near harming me so I had no fear for either it seemed.

I watch as he starts walking toward the chair opposite me, but I surprise even myself as he walks by. I grab his hand instead of letting him pass and intertwine my fingers with his before realizing what I was doing. I blush some as he stays silent but sits next to me on the divan, with a large amount of space between us. I wished for a moment that he was closer but could easily understand why he wasn't. His heart would only ever belong to one woman, and she was beautiful and perfect compared to any other especially me.

He stares at our hands intertwined for a long while before I remind myself I shouldn't touch him. The Demon's Child wasn't meant to touch anyone. I give his hand one more squeeze before I force myself to let go, and I instantly miss the warmth it gave my own hand. In his hands, I feel stronger and more sure of myself. My only wish is that he wouldn't wear the gloves, so when I do touch his hand even though I shouldn't, I could feel his hand and not the leather of the glove.