The Phantom's Melody (The Phantom of the Opera)

21. The Next Morning

The throbbing pain around my temples woke me up the following morning combined with the sweet tune of the papier-mache musical box echoing across the walls. I opened my eyes, blinking away the haze I felt before I realized where I was as I stared at the figure of a monkey in Persian robes attached to the music box.

I bolted up right, cursing as I swayed a little from the sudden movement. I looked around, realizing I was in a bed. More specifically, the Phantom's bed.

Oh god, no.

I quickly looked down, sighing in relief when I found that I was still wearing my clothes. So I hadn't done anything stupid last night. That was good. But that didn't explain how I had found my way down here and into his bed. I pulled the blankets off my legs and tugged down on the tassel which raised the curtains from around me. I slowly stood up, giving my body a second to stabilize before walking out of the room and into the open mouth of the cave.

Sitting at his piano, the Phantom was playing a lovely song that warmed my heart in ways I couldn't quite explain. I walked over, glancing at the papers scattered all over the ground. I bent over and started picking them up, catching his attention for just a moment. He paused his playing and looked over his shoulder, spearing me with his gaze.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching me carefully as I stacked the sheet music into a neat pile and placed it on the end of the piano.

"Cleaning up. It seems you have a tendency to make a mess of this place." I smirked a bit as I leaned against the side of the beautifully sculpted instrument.

He rolled his eyes before looking back down at the piano. "How did you sleep?" He asked as he absently ran his fingers along the keys, his eyes occasionally shifting up to glance at the notes written across the sheet music in front of him.

I bit my lip for a second. "Good." I fiddled with the hem of the sweater I had the good sense to put on last night before picking up that cursed bottle of vodka. I hesitated before speaking again, "So, about last night..." I trailed off.

He didn't bother looking up from the piano when he replied, "It's fine. I'm just glad you didn't slip and crack your head open. Hiding your body would have proven difficult."

I frowned. "Haha, very funny." I muttered and folded my arms. "But seriously, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you." To be completely honest, I didn't remember much about last night. It all became a blur after getting half way through the bottle of liquor.

He sighed, pausing his playing for just a moment. "Apologizing again won't change my answer," he said as he looked up at me.

I still groaned a little despite his words, though. "God...I screwed up," I muttered as I buried my face into my hands and sunk down next to him on the bench.

"I feel inclined to ask why you were drunk in the first place," he said as he shuffled through the sheets of music.

I let out a long breath as I removed my hands from my face. "I had my reasons." I ran a hand through my hair, sighing as I idly pressed a few of the piano keys.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't question me further. "You should probably get back upstairs before they come looking for you," he suggested. "Wouldn't want those two fools up there throwing a fit over your disappearance."

I managed a small smirk. "Don't worry. I doubt they find me important enough."

He looked over at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Then it seems they're even bigger fools than I previously thought."

I glanced up at him, feeling butterflies in my stomach from those simple words alone. "Thanks." I smiled a little before standing up. "But you're right. I should probably be going."

Part of me wished I could stay there all day with him, but I knew that wasn't possible. Especially not when the Phantom had killed someone and abducted Christine within the span of a few days. But I didn't let myself think too much about it.

"Come back for your lesson tomorrow evening. Maybe this time you will be sober" he said, sarcasm lacing his words.

I shot him a playful glare. "If it's anything like last night then I might need to have a drink before coming back down here," I teased, a smirk tugging at my lips. "I'll see you tomorrow, Opera Boy." I winked, turning on my heel with a flick of my skirt. For a brief moment I even thought I saw a smirk on his lips as he turned back towards his piano.

As I left, ascending back up into the halls of the Opera Populaire, I couldn't help but smile as I listened to the soft melody of his music that echoed off against the walls of the opera house. And for some reason a name kept hammering at the back of my mind, a name of which I couldn't quite remember who it belonged.

Erik.