The lights dimmed as the scenery changed, the pavilion giving its place to a prison wall, the winds confidently introducing the spectators to the last act. Half a tone lower, Erik noted mentally, as he passed his hand discreetly through his coat. He clenched his jaw and felt his heart rise to his throat, realising the severity of his situation.
The shadows gathered in the far right corner, slowly coming to form his beloved, shrouded under the large hood of a dark green cloak. His nerves got the best of him, as she took center stage to prove the work they had done for so long, yet he decided to concentrate on his own breathing, which became shallower with every ticking second. The tightening in his chest burned throught him, like a incadescent iron fist and passing a hand over it did not seem to ease his pain.
"Timor di me ?...sicura, presta è la mia difesa," her voice circled his foggy mind, unable to help him like so many timmes in the past.
"I suoi occhi figgonsi ad una gemma che le fregia la mano destra." His vision swam and he lost his balance, making the plank underneath them sway in the air.
"Erik?"
"In quest' oscura notte ravvolta, presso a te io son," Wrapped in the dark night, I am near you,
"Erik, what is it?"
"e tu nol sai..." and you don't know it...
"Daroga..." He stood, losing his balance and reaching a hand towards Nadir for support.
"Gemente aura che intorno spiri," Wailing wind,
"Get me out of here," the audience undeneath him became a sea of blurred colour.
The way down the rafters became harder than the Persian had anticipated, with his exhausted friend stopping at every twist, as his stomach rose to his mouth.
"deh, pietosa gli arreca i miei sospiri..." carry to him, mercifully, my sighs...
He drew his hand to suppport himself against a wall, as his coughs ripped his insides apart. He was lightheaded, his eyes saw nothing but white, heavenly light.
"D' amor sull' ali rosee," On the rosy wings of love,
"Erik!" His knees bent.
"vanne, sospir dolente:" go, pained sighs:
"Can you hear me? Erik!" Nadir's voice was far, far away.
"del prigioniero misero conforta l' egra mente..." go to alleviate the sick mind of the wretch that lies imprisoned...
"Listen to me! To her!" The light was now slipping away. Ice cold shivers ran up his toneless arm.
"Com' aura di speranza aleggia in quella stanza:" Like a breeze of hope linger in that room:
"Stay, Erik! Allah...Stay!" Someone was shaking him.
"lo desta alle memorie," wake him up to remembrance,
He was set down, leaning against a marble wall.
"ai sogni dell'amor!" to dreams of love!
"Christine..."a prayer escaped his dry lips.
"Ma deh! non dirgli improvvido, le pene del mio cor!" Yet do not imprudently reveal the woes of my heart!
The auditorium errupted in a violent wave of applause, whispers and shouts, making the crystals of the chandelier twinkle. The Persian paused to take a look at the angel beneath them, who was now kneeling on the edge of the stage, with her hands in the air and her yes searching hungrily the darkness above, hoping for two golden dots to appear.
"She was perfect, daroga..." he sighed, tucking his hand back in his coat, this time feeling it come out damp.
YOU ARE READING
D'Amor Sull'Ali Rosee
Ficción histórica[COMPLETE] Christine has never been good with navigating through the french capital and when she gets caught up in a dangerous situation, there's only one who could save her. But love, as all things in life, has its price. TW: substance abuse, viol...
