Sadly: I do not own anything to do with Phantom of the Opera...that all belongs to Leroux (check spelling?). Anyways: this is all pretty much an idea that's been stuck inside my head for the longest time, so enjoy! :)
He sighed and curled himself up in the sheet as the storm droned on. If it wasn't for the wind, he would be up all night, imagining the storm itself to be a loud orchestra playing a concert for him. As it was, the wind presented the problem. The boarded up windows creaked as the wind shook the home, whistling through the cracks. He groaned and curled himself up tighter, which was no difficult task.
He had considered his size to be normal once before he saw other children through the cracks of the wooden boards. Other children were normal. Him? He was not. Almost all of his bones were visible through his skin. His fingers were longer than the other children's fingers. He was also taller than most children should be at the age of ten.
Of course, he did possess more qualities than those other children. How many of them knew of several composers or could recite poetry or comprehend their fathers' textbooks?
Then again...he was the one who had to see the world through the small cracks of a boarded up window. The other children could play, could interact with each other, could have friends.
You can't have friends, he thought to himself. Friends are not something you get to have. Friends are not something you are allowed to have. As long as she keeps you up here, you will never have friends.
He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. The door opened and he glanced at it, shrugging it off as a matter of the wind. He made to close it, only to find his ears picking up small whimpering sounds (his hearing was also much improved over other children's). He closed the door and tilted his head, listening for the sounds.
A clap of thunder sounded along with a frightened squeal. He made his way over to one of the stacks of boxes and got down on his hands and knees, peering between two to see a small girl of about four years in a nightgown clutching a blanket.
"Hello," he called out.
"Who-who are you? What are you doing in my home, monsieur?"
"I am nobody." He swallowed. "My name is Erik. What is your name, mademoiselle?"
"Adellade."
"You have a very pretty name, mademoiselle Adellade. Might I join you amongst the boxes?"
She nodded and he crawled over next to her through a gap. "What are you doing here amongst these boxes? If you are interested in reading, there is a much more suitable area elsewhere."
"I'm afraid," she whispered. "Afraid of the noise."
"You have parents, do you not? Why have you not gone to them?"
"I tried that once. Maman thought I was being silly. So this time I hid up here." A clap of thunder sounded and she buried herself under the blanket.
"It is only noise. Noise cannot harm you."
She nodded. "Yes it can!"
Another clap of thunder sounded. This time, Adellade ran out past him and underneath the cot. Erik sighed and made his way over to her, looking at her as she cowered at the furthest corner.
"You cannot hide under there forever."
"I can and I will!"
He shook his head and crawled on top of the cot, sitting in the center of it. "Are you going to remain underneath my cot forever? Or are you going to come out one day?"
"It's scary out there!"
"It is only noise." He got off and crawled over to her. "See? Listen and close your eyes."
She did as he said. A clap of thunder sounded and she squealed.
"I'm still afraid!"
"You are afraid of the thunder? Ah, but that is not thunder, is it?"
"Yes it is!"
"No, it isn't. Listen again." Another clap of thunder sounded. "See? That is only a loud drum playing in an orchestra. And the rain? Those are smaller drums." He smiled as she opened her eyes, blinking.
"I suppose it makes sense…." She tilted her head. "Aren't you afraid up here by yourself, monsieur Erik?"
"No. There are worse things to fear."
"Like what?"
"The monster."
"Is he under here too?"
"No. He is under the mask."
"But you're wearing the mask!" She crawled over to him. "Are you a monster? Because you don't look like a monster."
"I can assure you that I do."
"Can I see?"
"No." He turned away from her and got back into his cot. You'll just run away. Just as the others have before.
He laid back down and stiffened with something moved in his cot next to him. He turned to see her there, curled up against him.
"I'm afraid to sleep by myself, monsieur Erik, so I'll sleep by you instead. That way I won't be alone." She yawned. "And the monster can protect us both too."
He opened his mouth to reply, and closed it, seeing that she was already asleep. He groaned and got up, making his way to the floor before turning back to her and picking her up in his arms. He carried her out the door and down the hall to her own room, setting her on the bed.
He eyed the room's decorations, seeing the furniture, the neatly stacked books and dolls. Everything a normal child should have to entertain themselves with. Everything he was never allowed.
Erik looked at her where she slept and turned to close the door. "Sleep well, mademoiselle Adellade. Sleep well and away from the monster."