The ceiling dripped a bit in the corners, the water landing with a soft plink on the matching stone floor, drop by drop. The lake lapped idly on the shore of the empty cavern.
Erik looked around his old home quietly. It was devoid of all of his favorite things that he had collected over the years- the enormous organ, the sheets of music strewn about, the candles, the curtains...
But the boat was still there, and had been waiting where it always had been for years. It had looked welcoming, sitting there tethered to its little dock, and Erik took it and set out straight for home.
He was surprised to see that all the traps and levers and switches were all intact and working. Without someone working them constantly and with no one to see or operate them any more, would they simply disappear into nothingness or stay loyally, rusting as they eagerly awaited the arrival of their master? Luckily, they had not gone anywhere, and Erik ran his hands over the familiar buttons fondly, even pressing a few to see if they worked. They did.
He had not brought any of his possesions or Tori with him...well, not the former anyway. Erik had ridden with Tori to the Opera, and she practiced five or six floors above where he now stood. Faintly the sounds of singing and dancing feet wafted down into the decrepit, rocky cellar and reverberated around the bare walls. Before they would've been absorbed by the sheer amount of things, the amount of human possesions strewn about in the tiny house on the lake, and Erik was even more reminded of how empty the cavern now was without him or her to populate it.
Did he want it back?
He avoided the question, turning straight around and heading back to the boat. Just as silently he sailed back to the dock and headed towards one of his secret passages. He would distract himself for as long as he could with the hustle and bustle of practice.
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Tori was snapped out of her attention to the managers' usual pep talk for the opening night by clinking in the rafters. Normally she would've shaken it off and turned back to where she was originally facing, seeing as it was most likely the stage hands fiddling with the ropes and curtains, but all of them were in her view to her left if she looked straight up, and this sound was coming from the front.
She squinted up into the darkness, searching for a figure of some sort. None presented itself, and she turned back to the front of the crowd. What was she expecting? Erik was either downstairs or waiting in the carriage. It was possible that he was exploring his usual hideouts, but...
There was more clinking, and more heads looked upwards than just Tori's. The staff became distracted too, and before long everyone was looking up. The darkness was silent and empty to their expectant eyes. Even the stagehands had looked over, a few of them taking one or two tentative steps toward the noise before stopping, unable to drag themselves forward more.
Firmin cleared his throat, prompting Andre to nudge Madame Giry. She had known what (or, rather, who) Tori was looking for, and she was just as curious to see if that something would show up. Briefly she questioned if it was childish nonsense to think the ghost was still around, because as soon as Tori had gotten married he had gone away, and even when she would come back for practice he wouldn't follow her.
Her attention came center stage again and she banged her cane loudly on the floor to divert everyone's attention from the rafters. Tori hesitated before looking down, thoughts quietly working out what could be happening as half of her made an effort to listen to the speech.
As soon as everyone was dismissed, she strayed from the mass of giggling girls to the back hallways, where the population went from twenty or thirty to ten to five and finally to no one. It was always musty and quiet beyond the workrooms after a practice, seeing as it only served as a storage place for old props, some of them broken beyond repair and waiting to be sold in auctions that felt like they would never come around. Statues leered out at her as Tori strode purposefully to a stack of crates that lied innocently in the back corner. Cobwebs shone in what little light was streaming through high windows in the wall.
She squeezed carefully between two stacks, sighing as dust rubbed off onto her dress. She brushed it off and stared at the wall, feeling around for a loose spot. In one section the wood paneling gave way. She stumbled into a dark and even more dusty passage and tried to recall how to get down to the house by the lake.
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Erik followed behind his wife silently. He was strangely curious to see how far her memory could take her before she gave up and either tried to go back the way she came or call out for him, and also slightly amused at her want to find him again. Had she not listened to his instructions to wait outside for a carriage, and if there wasn't one out in front of the street that she recognized, to wait for one? Did she want to see Erik's old home as well?
She hit what must have been the fourth dead end in a row. "Ugh!" she huffed, leaning against the wall. "Where is he?!"
"Right here."
She turned with a jump, breath catching in her throat with a small squeak. To and fro Tori's head snapped back and forth, peering into the darkness of the corridor she stood at the end in for the telltale figure of the ghost.
Now tiring of watching her guess at him, he stepped forward. Her face relaxed in an expression of recognition as she stared up at him. Black bangs fell into her eyes, head tilting and mouth contorting into a frown. "Were you in the rafters during practice today?" she demanded.
Erik shrugged. "I wanted to see how the Opera House was doing without my influence."
"Just fine. I'm still employed, aren't I?"
He waved a hand. "Again, I was curious. And yes," he added as she opened her mouth for another question, "I have visited my old home as I have promised."
Tori covered her eyes with her hand, fingers rubbing gently against the closed eyelids, smudging the heavy stage makeup she still wore. "And are we moving back?"
Erik hesitated. There was that question again, the question that he had purposely avoided before. His lips pursed as he stared Tori in the eye, strong gazes never wavering from either.
And then he made his decision.
"Yes."
