Chapter 11- Talk
A/N: More fluff in this chapter! so for those who love it, sit back and enjoy! For those who don't, well... put up with it any way and let me kno how you feel about it! I'm taking artistic liscence on the story of Meg's father. It's completely my imagination working- just to give a little backstory.
to jokaryn- thanks for your reviews... they just kept coming... its nice to get feedback- thanks for giving me the pros AND the cons! as for your personal want-to-know on how old i am, well... suffice it to say that i am older than twelve and younger than twenty! keep reviewing!
also- just a note- i did a little reasearch, and found out that the drug morphine was first discovered in the early 1800s. Its a bi-product of opium, which, Erik is also experiments with in Susan Kay's Phantom. just thought i'd let you know! but after this, i'm not sure if we'll hear much from the drugs again...
The very next day, Erik kept his promise. Meg awoke to find him working on the rocks, attempting to move them. He seemed to be making a little progress, but the job still seemed relatively hopeless. Some of the boulders toward the top of the pile were extremely large.
Erik didn't notice Meg come out into the main room. She stood in the doorway, watching him with a faraway look, thinking. Part of her was still wondering if the events of the previous night had actually taken place, but another part of her knew that they had. She had seen a completely new and different side of Erik last night- one that she found herself liking. He had been so gentle and compassionate; she remembered- it was as though the cold-hearted man she had known had completely melted away. With a slight shiver, Meg recalled the feeling of his arms encircling her. She had definitely felt something; a feeling she couldn't ignore, a stirring sense of something she wasn't sure she could name. But whatever it was, Meg was longing to feel it again.
Erik noticed Meg a moment later, as he rested against the rocks- having just caused a notably large one to shift and splash into the lake. He locked eyes with her.
Holding his gaze, he seemed to send out a silent request... Come to me...
Meg lifted up her skirts, walking through the water and coming to stand beside him.
He looked mildly surprised that she had come out- he would have thought she would want to keep as much distance between them as possible.
"I wasn't sure you'd keep your word," said Meg passively.
"I made a promise, didn't I?" he challenged.
Meg nodded. "Yes. But I've lived enough to know not to trust a promise. They are so often false." She stared out across the water wistfully.
"What other false promises have you heard, Meg?" Erik asked quietly.
Meg let out a sigh. "Enough," she said. She brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes and continued, not looking at Erik when she spoke, slowly growing lost in her own world of memory. "My father promised me he would return. He left us on my fifth birthday. He said he was going to Rouen or somewhere to find work... I never really understood why. I wanted to know why he was leaving me on my birthday. He promised me he would return, before my next one, and that he would bring me a present beyond my wildest dreams. That was the last time I saw him. He wrote to me a few times... every time his letters would come, Maman would cry. My sixth year came, and passed, and no sign of him. I began to realize- though I think I always knew- that there was no present; that he would never come back. His letters stopped coming, and Maman and I moved on with our lives. I never found out what happened to him." She snapped back to reality, slightly embarrassed that she had gone off like that. "But you probably do not wish to hear of my sorrows. They are petty next to everything else, I am sure..."
Erik shrugged, but said nothing. Truthfully, he didn't mind it. He liked it when Meg spoke- he liked hearing the sound of her voice; light, and musical and innocent. He noticed Meg timidly fall silent. Determined to keep the conversation going, he asked, "How old were you when you first became a dancer?" He knew the answer to that question; he had seen the first day ten-year-old Meg had come to the Opera. He had been in his mid-teens, and had watched her from the rafters as she and the other new ballet "rats" had performed the audition routine. But he was hoping that by raising the topic, he might start Meg off talking again.
"I was ten," said Meg reminiscently, trailing her fingers along the stone edifice, a smile passing over her fair face as she recalled the memory. "I was so excited then- it had always been my dream to be a part of the opera. Ever since my mother brought me to my first show, when I was no more than a child. She used to be in the corps de ballet- I remember watching her and thinking of how pretty she looked, and how I wanted to be like her. I was dancing as soon as I could walk- I can't remember it ever not being a part of my life. I practiced so hard- I knew I just had to make the auditions. Then the day came... I was so nervous; I feared I would forget the steps. But when I got on stage, all my fright melted away." Her smile widened. "I felt like I was part of the music... I let it lead me. Maman said she had never seen me dance so well as I did that day. She said the angels had come down that day and were leading me. I used to believe in angels..." She trailed off, realizing that she had done it again. "I'm sorry. I've gone off again," she said.
"I like it when you talk," Erik said, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Meg avoided his eyes; she looked slightly uncomfortable, and unsure of what to say. "I mean-" he tried to recover. "-it's just that... I have never really had anyone here... to talk to. It's just... strange. New. And... different."
Meg glanced up, her blue eyes staring into his green ones. She had the sudden sensation that she was falling, and realized suddenly that they were standing very close together. Her feet had involuntarily moved forward, though she couldn't remember doing so. Mere inches separated them. She heard Erik suck in a sharp breath, obviously disconcerted by her closeness. Something passed between them in an instant- their eyes were unable to look away from each other.
There was a loud humming in Meg's ears; she felt like she was lost in a dream, cut off from reality, lost in a sea of green waves edged with gold...
And then he moved away.
It took Meg a moment to come to her senses, when she finally realized that she was staring at a patch of thin air. She also realized that she was disappointed that the moment hadn't lasted.
In her room later that night, guilt washed over Meg like an rising ocean tide. Her thoughts were confused- and almost all of those thoughts were about Erik. She was beginning to understand where all his anger had come from, and was surprised that it hadn't dawned on her before.
The answer was Christine.
Of course, Meg thought. Why didn't I see it before? It provided a plausible explanation for Erik's behavior. Christine had left him, his love had gone unrequited. The man was bound to be a little moody, she thought. It was all making sense. And his sudden kindness toward her... It means nothing, she assured herself.
Best to forget it.
But the mere thought of Erik was enough to keep her occupied for a considerable amount of time. She would wonder constantly about him- the mysterious "phantom of the opera". How had he come to the Opera House? How had he met Christine, and become her angel of music? And what exactly had happened in the depths of the Opera on the night of the chandelier crash? Meg fell asleep wondering this, and her thoughts turned into dreams that were very strange. . .
A/N: short…. Kind of boring… I know. I'm not as happy as I could be with this chapter…. I'm not happy in general right now cause I just found out that I might have to have (another) oral surgery sometime soon….. which is a different story completely, but it totally screwed my day.
okay... i must now take a poll: How many people want to see more fluff? And how many of you want more angst? And who just wants both? LET ME KNOW, MY DARLING READERS! Because I wanna write what u wanna read! I live for feedback, after all. -puts on puppy face and begs- so review for me, please?
please? pretty please?
gracias!
