Phantom's Fate 《Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction》

4

A/N: And Ivan comes into play! I try to switch POVs here and there to break up any monotony. I hope you guys enjoy!

(Dedicated to AHWolflady for the first comment!) ♡

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《Alia》

Ivan's eyes widen as soon as his gaze land on the blonde beside me. I smile a little to myself. He definitely finds her attractive, which takes the pressure off of me not to hurt Ivan if I reject him and his feelings for me. Hopefully, these two will hit it off, and I will have time to gather my own feelings for myself and sort them out.

"Hi," he waves awkwardly, his eyes still wide and glassy.

Meg giggles and curtsies to him. "Nice to meet you, Monsieur Ivan." I could see the blush giving rise to his tan cheeks, and I step back a little to give them some time together. They're too preoccupied with each other to notice my discreet leave, and I turn down the hall and find the Prima Donna room. Not wearing any pants, my legs prick with chills because of the strong draft up here. Hopefully, since Christine last used that room, there are some outfits I can borrow until I get my own.

Creaking open the door, I see that it's dark and untouched, so I head inside and search the closets. Hannibal...no. Il Muto? No. These are only costumes... Not one single dress for an average person. I sigh and shut the closet door, leaning my head against it. I feel bad for taking a set of Erik's clothes on him, especially after he saved my life.

My heart throbs.

Oh, Erik... I think softly, my eyes grazing the floor. What am I going to do with you?

My breath hitches. Oh, no!

What is he going to do with me?

By now, he must have realized I escaped, and he must think I revealed his secrets to everyone! I'm dead meat. I'm done for. Unless I can explain myself well enough, but that has never happened in my life, and I don't think it'll start now. Maybe returning these clothes will help? Trying to be independent and unrelying on him may lighten his anger a little, since he wouldn't have to cater to my every need.

Yanking open the drawer underneath the vanity mirror, I am in luck. A white corset with sleeves is tucked neatly inside, with a matching pair of drawers. Changing quickly, I fold Erik's pajamas neatly and set them on the vanity. The candles at the front of the room flicker out eerily, halting my steps. Glancing around slowly, I watch as the other candles are blown out by a mysterious draft. My heart starts to race. I can only hope he's not full of rage.

A chill breezes across my skin. All the windows are shut tight. My eyes trail to the mirror. "Erik?" I cautiously step closer to the glass, clothes in hand. "I can return your pajamas now. I found spare clothes."

The eerie darkness of the room rattles my bones. Am I talking to myself? No, I can't be. I can feel him lurking, somewhere in the vicinity. "...Erik?"

"You were supposed to stay in my home."

His cold tone sends an instant chill down my spine. I can't pinpoint where he's hiding.

"Instead, you fled and spew nothing but lies."

I grip his pajamas closer to my chest. "No! I'm not lying to you. I have your clothes--"

"I'm not talking about the clothes."

I swallow hard. My eyes fall to the floor where my feet fidget. "I'm sorry, Erik. I really am. But you can't expect to hold someone hostage and assume they will stay. It's wrong. I didn't even do anything to you to deserve that."