Hybristophilia (Phantom of the Opera x Reader)

2.7

I let out a scream and shut my eyes, not wanting to see the ground. Something catches my wrist and I no longer feel the air rushing upwards. I slowly reopen my eyes, afraid of what I might see. The Phantom is there, holding my arm with one hand and keeping himself on top of the roof. His face (the half I can see) is scrunched up in concern and minor strain. He pulls me back up and lets me lay down on the snow, since I think I'm probably in shock. Like a switch, he goes back to being angry, "What were you thinking?!? If anyone other than me was up here with you, you'd be on the front page of tomorrow morning's newspaper!" 

Shivering and shaking, my eyes water, "I'm s-so sorry!" The switch in him flips again. The Phantom picks me up, "You're in no condition to return like this. I'm afraid you'll put yourself in danger again." I couldn't bring myself to protest. Something about being in this man's arms is comforting. He carries me backstage and opens a door I had never seen before. Once inside, the door closes on its own. I can't see a thing, but he moves quickly, as if his eyes are adjusted to the darkness.

I have to gather the courage to speak, "I-I can w-walk now, thank you." Without even a glance down at me, he replies firmly, "No." His response is so resolute that the rest of the way, I lay in his arms in silence.

The scene before me is one I thought I would never see again. The sight of the lake was enough to cause me to start shaking again. I twist around in his arms in a futile attempt to break free. "What in the world are you doing?!" he tightens his grip on me so I don't fall. "You are the siren, come to kill me!" I press my face against his chest and grab his clothes, making myself difficult to remove. The Phantom sets me on the ground, feet first, carefully moving his hands to remove mine. I don't know why, but I let him take my hands in his. His hands are cold, but they fill me with a comforting warmth. "Child, I am not a siren. I am an angel. Your angel." The way he speaks this is softhearted.

"Why?" My head falls toward the floor, embarrassed at everything that has happened since I fell. "Hm?" He moves his hand under my chin and softly raises my head back up to meet his eyes. "Why are you caring for someone like this after you just met?" The Phantom is genuinely confused by my question, "Because I know you, (Y/N). I do care about you."

"If you know me, what's my favorite color?" I question.  "(F/C)." "Favorite food?" "(F/F)." "What do I do to get rid of stress?" "You practice your violin until you feel better." My suspicion about this man rises, "You're good..."

I decide to add a different question for the fun of it, "What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?" "What do you mean? An African or European swallow?" He's smart and good with responses.

"Last question. How do you know Christine and why did you act like that on the roof?" He thinks before responding, "I am her teacher. I've been giving her voice lessons." His voice turns from sorrowful to resentful, "Then she threw me away for that rich, no-good imbecile." I felt a little bit of pity, but something kept me from believing Christine should be with the Phantom. Although I don't care much for Raoul, the Phantom seems too foreign for Christine. In the time I've known her, I've learned that she likes more mild things. Christine also tends to do better with things she can associate with her childhood. Raoul has known Christine since they were little, so he has sentimental value. 

The Phantom suddenly straightens and holds a hand out to me, "Come on, let's go." I let him lead me to the boat. He boards first and then beckons for me to do the same, his hands ready to help me. I stand there like an idiot, not moving because I'm incredibly nervous. He pulls me forward and nods, telling me to board. I place one foot inside as his hands hold me steady. Once my other foot is in, he motions for me to sit down as he grabs the oar. He pushes the boat away from the edge and rows, sparing a glance at me now and then. Every time he catches me looking at him, I avert my eyes and pretend I am just observing everything around me. I can't help but be intrigued by his appearance. His cloak hides this body and he wears a hat that looks adorable on him. The most peculiar part is the mask. On the roof, Christine had said his face is deformed. Even if that's the case, I don't understand why she is so afraid of him, since he's been treating me so nicely.

A lantern attached to the front of the boat lights the way across the lake until smaller lights appear up ahead. They seem to be suspended from the ceiling since they are high up. Once we get closer, I realize the lights are from towering candelabras that sprout up from the water. 

Today is the weirdest day of my life. "You're going to get used to it soon enough," The Phantom speaks suddenly. Did I accidentally talk out loud?? The Phantom chuckles and neither of us speaks again for the remainder of the trip.

We finally reach what I assume is his destination. He gets off the boat and offers me his hands, which I take quickly this time. His fingers wrap around my hands as he helps me off, which sends a tingling sensation down my arms.

He removes his hat, revealing his orderly, brown hair. He sets his hat down on a bed as I examine the room. Other than the bed, there are random items scattered along with a large organ placed against a wall that draws the most attention out of everything here. 

The Phantom comes up beside me, giving me his hands again. He leads me to the bed and motions for me to sit. When I take too long to react, he sighs, "You need to sit down, you're still shaking." He was right. I hadn't noticed because I've been too lost in thought, but I still haven't fully recovered from my near-death experience. I give in and sit down, taking off my shoes to try and keep the bed as clean as possible. The Phantom swings his cloak over his shoulders and wraps it around me. My face heats up in a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, "M-monsieur?" He shushes me, "As long as you are in my care, I will make sure you stay healthy. For me to do this, you have to cooperate." I nod stiffly, keeping my eyes trained on the floor. I feel incredibly embarrassed and anxious. I don't want to make myself out to be more of an idiot than I am.

The cloak warms me up quickly and I no longer feel myself shaking. I let out a comfortable sigh and debate laying down on the bed. As much as I want to, I don't want to be rude. The Phantom walks over again and smiles, "You can lie down, dear. I know you're tired." For some reason, situations like this are what make me feel most anxious, "Y-you sure?" "Positive," he reassures me. I hesitantly lie down. The bed is soft and forms around my body, wanting to engulf me. My eyelids feel weighted, but I try to fight off sleep. "Don't resist," I hear the Phantom say, soothingly. My body obeys his command and I lose the fight to stay awake.