Phantom of the Opera (Oneshots)

Little Angel (Erik)

What if Erik "adopts" one of the young ballerina wannabes?

"That's enough for today. Now hurry along to your rooms," Madame Giry dismisses us. Meg grabs my hand and pulls me with her, looking excited. "Not you, (Y/N)." Meg's face drops as she stares at her mother in confusion. Madame Giry shoos Meg away, "I need to talk to her. Meg, go to your room like the rest of the ballet dancers." "I'll catch up with you in a little bit," I smile at Meg, reassuring her. Both of us are disappointed, I can tell, but no one who disrespects Madame Giry will ever dance here again.

"Y-yes, madame?" My voice cracked with nervousness. Madame Giry sends down a glare in my direction, "You hardly made any progress today. You were fumbling all over the place and distracting the other dancers. You should be ashamed of this behavior. I expect you to spend your free time practicing instead of hanging out with Meg. Is that understood?" Tears prick my eyes and I have to curl my fists to keep myself from crying, "Yes, madame." "Good. Now go practice," Madame Giry leaves me alone on the stage.

Not wanting anyone passing by to see me, I find the darkest corner of the backstage area and sit in it, wrapping my arms around my knees and hiding my head. Tears spill from my eyes, but I bite my lip to prevent them from turning into a sob. No matter how hard I practice, I keep messing up. Madame Giry has never once complimented me like she has for the other girls. Even the new recruits seem to be getting the hang of this dance better than I have.

Something lays gently against the top of my head. I freeze, scared. No one ever comes to this section of the opera house, hidden behind all the props from shows performed long ago. I slowly lift my head. My vision is blurry, but I can make out the suit jacket in front of me. The longer I look, the more I can see. The cloak, the pants, the jacket, the shirt, the bow tie, and...

There's a man, crouched down in front of me, his right hand still resting on my head. My eyes take another moment to adjust to the dim light before I notice the white mask covering half his face. Sudden realization kicks in, "You're the-" My voice won't let me finish the rest of the sentence. Meg told stories about a man in a white mask who would cause misfortunes and tragedies in the opera house. I had assumed she was just making up a story to scare us.

The man sighs and lifts his hand, shifting so that he is seated on the floor beside me. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, pretending he isn't there. My hopes that he will go away are crushed as his hand returns to the top of my head, gliding side to side lightly. I try to fight the feeling, but I can't help but feel a little more relaxed. An odd tingling sensation is sent from my head down my spine.

"She's harsh, isn't she?" His words catch me off guard. "All the time," I'm tired of always being the odd-one-out in the group. It's silent for a couple moments before I nervously break it, "Are you...the...?" "The Phantom," His voice was bland as he confirmed what I was thinking. "I won't harm you, little angel," His voice turned soft and gentle, like a father would speak to his own child.

A quiet melody caresses my ears. The Phantom is humming, far better than I thought humming could sound.

I lean against the Phantom, not realizing it at first. The side of my face is pressed against his soft cloak as he continues humming and stroking my hair. My legs are stretched out and my arms have fallen to my lap as every note and every touch send me further and further into a state of relaxation, almost like magic.

"I can help you," His voice is coaxing, "I will teach you to dance. I will also tutor you in music." I look up at him, making eye contact from an angle, "Will it be good enough for Madame Giry?" He laughs softly, "You'll blow her away. You will have the dance memorized in three days and perfected in a week." My breath hitches and he seems to notice, "I've seen your talent. You've been trying to bring it out incorrectly. You don't learn the same way the others do, but I understand what you need. I know exactly how to help you." His hand lifts off my head and rises to his feet. I watch him carefully as his figure towers over me. The Phantom leans over with a smile, extending his arm toward me. He holds his hand out, palm up. I stare at his hand for a few seconds before gently setting my hand in his. He lifts me to my feet and starts leading me with him, opening a door I didn't know was there. He covers us with his cloak as we enter so we are not seen. An unfamiliar hallway lights up in front of me, but the Phantom seems to know it well. He tightens his grip on my hand so I don't accidentally get lost or something. The Phantom turns back to me as we're walking with an odd smile, "I am your Angel of Music. Come with me, little angel."