To Save You I Will Die (Phantom Of The Opera x Oc)

Chapter 2: Wishing You Were Here Again

My playing was somewhat rusty since my hands were still young. I needed a few more years to get better.

"It has been a long time since I have heard you play Delphine." I turn back to see my father staring at me with a melancholy look.

I begin to stand up from the piano, trying not to make too big of a scene.

"I am sorry," I said, not knowing what to say. Instead, he smiled softly at me—his brownish-grey hair glistening in the sun.

He sat down on the chair in the room. "I think the last time you played was when your mother was alive." He grinned at the memory. I sat down on the piano bench, wanting to hear the story.

He pointed to the piano. "You and your mother would be there playing the piano while I played the violin, and Christine would sing." He chuckled at the memory, a warm glow showing on his face.

The mother in my world was not around much, but when he spoke about her, I sort of wished I could have felt her warmth.

Maybe if I learned more about her, I could get some more memories. But, the way things were going right now, I was unsure if I could best help Erik.

I had mixed memories of my own and Delphine. It was more of a blur of mixed. I was not sure which memories were my own and which one was Delphine's.

For one thing, I was sure Delphine had a strong love for her father, yet I was unsure how to reciprocate this emotion.

I was never the most affectionate type. I got off the bench and sat on the floor, my head looking up at him.

"Papa, how have you been feeling lately," I say in my most caring voice I could muster.

He smiled, wondering why I would ask this question. "What do you mean?"

He was somewhat young, so I was surprised about why he would die so young.

I try again, hoping to get a better answer from him. "Papa, you look tired these past couple of days." I tried my best to act concerned without being suspicious. "Have you been sleeping and eating well? You hardly touched your breakfast today."

His face was contorted. I had hit a string, and something resonated in him.

"I am right, aren't I?"

He shook his head. His hand clasps into the back of his neck, and his head hangs low. "You noticed," he said in a dark tone.

I waited for his words. But, instead, his eyes hung low, not looking at me and looking at the floor.

"The doctors said my heart is not doing well."

A part of me was breaking from his voice. "So, you are going to be fine, right, Papa."

He did not respond, only giving me a tragic glimpse of his eyes.

I hugged him as he seemed to almost cry into my arms. However, my body could not cry for this man I had just met, yet I could still feel the sadness within my heart.

I pat him on his shoulder. "We shall get through this, Papa. There must be some way I could get a job, and Christine can...."

He lifted his head. "No, Christine has gone through enough; she must not know of this. Her heart can not handle this; she is too young."

Quite hypocritical, I thought. But, of course, you are talking to your other daughter, who was the same age as her, but it made sense. I could tell that Delphine had to grow up after her mother's death.