Previously: Bella and Edward met in the cemetery and Edward promised to come again later. Don Juan Triumphant is on and Bella is the star.

Music Note: I have nothing for you guys. This chapter is going to have to go music-less. Next time!

The Music of the Night

Chapter 20

Setting the Stage

Bella perched on the edge of her bed and twisted the hem of her dress between her fingers. She examined the red fabric that Rose had talked her into wearing that morning and wondered again if she ought to change into something … else. Not that she had any idea what one was supposed to wear to reunite with the man of their dreams, but she didn't feel like the dress she had worn all day was enough.

But she couldn't even think of putting on different clothes. What if he came while she was changing? And then what if he thought she was changing for bed and didn't come to talk to her? She let out a loud sigh and shifted on the bed, beginning to tap out a rhythm on her leg.

She wasn't sure what time it was, but it felt as if she had been sitting here forever. When was Edward going to come? She resisted the thought that he might not come at all. I can't think that. I can't start.

Another five minutes passed while she tried to hold perfectly still instead of fidgeting. It was useless. She stood up and then collapsed onto her bed again, burying her face in a pillow and letting out a cry of frustration that was muffled by the fabric. She couldn't take much more today.

After Edward had left the rehearsal, Monsieur Claireau had struggled on with practice for another hour before finally giving up. Bella still hadn't sung a single word of Edward's brilliant work.

She had hung around with Rose and Emmett for a while, but their conversations about the 'Opera Ghost' and the way they both looked at each other, which seemed to beg for some alone time, made Bella retreat to her own room before long.

Now, she had been sitting in her room for at least an hour, utterly incapable of doing anything except waiting for Edward. She had tried reading, but couldn't process a single word. She had tried singing, but her voice was weak and cracked repeatedly.

Frustrated, Bella dug her fingers into her hair and brushed it back, "Oops!" She said, startled when she remembered that Rose had done up her hair this morning with a multitude of pins. Now she was left with a cascade of curls that had escaped her hairstyle and a handful of pins. She stared at herself in the mirror, as if she could make her reflection change to Edward's face by sheer force of will.

She placed the pins down on her dresser and sighed, sitting back on her bed. She forcibly turned her head away from the mirror and stared at her fingers with determination. She was not going to keep watching for him. He would come whether she was staring into the mirror or not.

Ten minutes later, she gave up and risked a peek up into the mirror. She let out a squeak of joy and surprise when she found that glass of the mirror was gone and instead Edward was standing there.

"Edward!" She jumped up from the bed and sped through the steps toward him until they were a mere foot apart. Edward hadn't spoken and was looking conflicted.

Bella frowned, terrified of the look in his eyes, a look that might mean, 'I'm going to leave you for your own good again.' At the very thought of such a thing, Bella could feel her eyes begin to burn and her gaze became blurred. She blinked back the unwelcome tears with violence.

"Edward?" She asked, her voice now just a tentative whisper. "Edward, can we please talk?"

He had been staring at the ground, but at the note of pleading in her voice, his eyes shot up to meet hers. "Oh, Bella." The tears shot back up into her eyes at the tortured tone of his voice. He sounded like he was about to be torn in two. "Bella, you deserve so much more than I can ever give you." His voice was a hoarse whisper, like hers had become.

Alarmed by this course of the conversation, Bella wanted to grab onto Edward, pull him toward her and away from these thoughts, but something held her back from it. Somehow, she couldn't cross the invisible line that was once the glass of her mirror.

"But … but Edward." Her voice was barely audible. "You're all that I want, all that I ever wanted and I'm so-so s-s-sorry for e-everything." By the end, her voice had broken multiple times and the tears in her eyes were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Edward looked split between wanting to comfort her and wanting to hear what she was saying. "I've been terrible and I've let you down and I've – I've betrayed you and you think you're not good enough for me?"

"Bella." For one long moment there was absolute silence, broken only by Bella's shuddering breaths. Then Edward stepped fully into the room. "Come here." He opened his arms for her and Bella crushed herself to him, reveling in his rock hard strength. She was so secure when he was holding her.

"Sh," Edward urged, but she wasn't even on the verge of tears anymore. She was too happy to cry. "Calm down sweetheart." Bella struggled to even out her breath.

They stayed in that embrace for a series of long minutes. There was no one to interrupt them, nothing to rush them to the things they had to discuss, simply them.

Edward was the first to speak, but when he did, it was in quiet, calming tones, finally a response to what she had said earlier. "You did not betray me Bella. If you want to leave, then you can do so and it is not a betrayal."

Bella let out a wild sound of protest at the thought, and Edward responded by pressing her even more closely to him for a moment. "Shh. No, I should have told you … what I am." He actually let out a tense laugh. "Why is it that I could tell you that I'm a vampire, but being the Phantom of the Opera was such a secret?"

Bella kept her face buried in his shoulder. It was easier to talk this way, with his arms supporting her and reminding her that no matter their mistakes, he was here now. She laughed weakly at his question, and asked, sadly, "Why is it that I could understand that you are a vampire, but had so much trouble with the Phantom of the Opera?"

Edward drew back slightly at her question. He wanted to see her eyes as she answered his next question. Bella drew in a swift breath when she felt his arms retracting, but she managed to calm herself when he didn't go far. "That's a good question Bella. I don't understand you at all sometimes."

There was no malice in his statement, but Bella still felt the guilt of her doubt in him. She looked away from his golden eyes, unable to meet his gaze while remembering those hours after Il Muto. He gently reached out and pressed her chin up so that she was looking at him again. "I've gone long enough without looking into those eyes Bella, don't hold back from me now." The tenderness in his tone was almost enough to start her crying again.

"Being a vampire," she began in a rush of words, "it's not something you have any control over. It's what you are. And I always knew that you weren't completely human. You've always been so much more than that. But knowing that you had killed by choice as the Opera Ghost, knowing that you had deliberately caused harm …" Her eyes darted away from the intensity of his for a moment and then returned, determined to get this out. "I thought it was different that night." She let out a humorless laugh. "So all this has really just been over the semantics of killing someone. I've been so stupid. I should have realized that it's you and it doesn't matter."

There was a beat of silence and then Edward's incredulous voice. "It doesn't matter if I deliberately murdered someone for … what was it with Joseph Buquet? Simply stumbling upon me and seeing me in the flesh? Is that what they say?"

Bella clenched her eyes tightly as his words rushed into her mind. Her cheeks flushed. When he put it that way, it really didn't sound like something Edward would do. Why have I been so stupid? Why didn't I give him a chance to explain?

Bella's voice was a whisper again. "Well, it wouldn't have mattered to me. I-I lo…" But she couldn't bring herself to say it while he was still looking at her with those disbelieving eyes. "But now that you say it, I realize how ridiculous that sounds." She trailed off anticlimactically.

"Bella I-" Judging from his wide eyes, Edward had realized some of what she had almost said. Then he began again, emphatically.

"I don't want there to be anymore misunderstandings about this. I have killed people before. For a few years right after Carlisle changed me, I chose to live outside of his vegetarian method. It was … terrible. I would never go back to it." His gaze was fierce and earnest and his hands which were now on her arms had tightened. "But since then, I have never killed anyone."

Bella forcibly restrained herself from interrupting, though her thoughts were in a whirl. "Joseph Buquet," Edward continued, "was killed by Jasper, two years ago, before Alice and he left. Remember when I told you that he has had difficulties with control?"

Bella nodded, still a little dazed and with guilt boiling in her stomach. "That was the final straw. Jasper lost control completely. It took Alice and I together to restrain him from going mad through the city or the opera house." Edward looked sickened. Bella imagined the scene and felt a little ill as well. "Alice and he left immediately for somewhere less populated and I made up a story for people to find."

Before Bella could say anything, he was talking again. "That's not to say that I am completely blameless. I still feel guilty for talking Alice into visiting me here rather than going to visit her in the country. And I'll admit that at the time, I was actually glad sometimes that Jasper had done it. It certainly cemented my reputation." There was bitterness in his tone.

"Edward." Bella's voice was a desperate cry for herself and for him. She pulled herself up, standing on tiptoe, and comforted him the only way she knew how, by pressing her mouth to his.

The kiss was raw and there was a primal note to it that had been there in the cemetery as well. Bella wondered, tragically, if they would ever be able to kiss again without that edge of bitter pain. But just as she thought it, Edward proved her wrong as he softened the kiss. Their lips did little more than caress one another until Bella was welling up with tears again from the pure tenderness.

When they finally drew back, it was with much of their tension evaporated. Bella stayed pressed against him, but the need wasn't as violent anymore. The feelings were just as strong, but perhaps no longer quite as painful. She let herself melt into his embrace for several long moments.

Finally she breathed into his chest, "I want you to know that Jacob is …" She felt him tense at the mere mention of Jacob's name. "he's …" she hesitated, not sure what the right words were that would be honest and yet, would reassure him. "You're more important." I love you. She couldn't understand why the words were sticking in her throat.

There was silence and Bella could practically hear Edward's self-dismissing thoughts. She smoothed her hands up and down his back as if to reassure a small child. "I mean it Edward. He just … doesn't matter in comparison."

Finally Edward replied, and there was an emotional strain in his voice when he did that she had never heard before. "I cannot understand what I have ever done to deserve you, but I know that I can do nothing less than hold you to me with everything I have. I cannot let you go again, whether it is the right thing to do or not."

"It's not." She said, fiercely.

Edward chuckled and smiled at her for the first time in a very long while. She grinned back, happiness surging through her. He wasn't leaving!

Bella ruined the moment by yawning. She cursed her pathetic body, always crying out for its pitiful needs. Sleep? Now?!

Edward's smile softened. "You must be tired. It's been a long day."

Bella reflected on the afternoon's unsuccessful rehearsals and frowned in distaste. "They're murdering your opera. I don't know how you can stand it. I've only begun to read through it and I already want to scream at them all. For you …" She shuddered at the thought.

"I keep in mind that if I tolerate them, then I get to hear you." Bella blushed at his compliment.

There was a long moment as Bella tried to work up the nerve to broach the subject that she had wanted to talk to him about since she had first seen the opera. Edward was the one to break the silence. "What is it, Bella?"

His voice was gentle, even warm. She could feel his kindness stabbing at her as she thought of his opera, of the state he had been in when he wrote it. "I-I love your music. You know that I adore your music." She started. He pulled away from her enough to see her face. He looked confused, as if he had no idea where she was going with this.

"I just wanted to say that I … that I'm … that …" she gave up on tactful phrasing, "I'm so sorry for destroying our song!"

The tears were about to fall from Bella's eyes again and she attempted to bury herself back in Edward's chest, but he held her back, still looking at her. He surprised her by chuckling. It was a dark sound and lacked any real humor, but still!

It was Bella's turn to eye him with confusion. He met her eyes and explained, "Bella, this ending always made more sense anyway. All I Ask of You was something I wrote in a fit of fancy. Don Juan was never destined for a happy ending."

His face looked so grim at the end of his statement that Bella was torn between hitting him for his ridiculous self-loathing and kissing away his pain. He obviously saw himself in the character of Don Juan and she hated what he thought to be his fate. Her response was fierce as she held herself back from both options. "Yes. He is."

Edward's brow furrowed at her sudden intensity. Bella continued, determined to get the words out whether they hurt her or not. "I know that I destroyed that song for you … maybe for both of us … but you can not leave Don Juan and Aminta with a tragedy because of that. How can you be here with me and still have Don Juan cast into hell at the end of the opera?"

Her brain began to catch up with her fervent mouth and she blushed. "Not that you can do anything about it now … I just don't want you to think that the ending of your opera is right. Because it's not."

Edward's eyes felt like they were piercing into her soul, like he could read everything about her. Bella's cheeks turned bright red, but she held his gaze. Something was burning in his eyes that she couldn't quite recognize.

He leaned in to her and met her lips with his own, still not dropping his gaze. Bella fought to keep her own eyes open against the sensory onslaught of his kiss, but soon gave up. It was impossible to focus on anything other than his mouth when it was pressing against hers.

He only broke the kiss when Bella was beginning to feel pained from lack of air. He pressed her to him, kissing her hair from time to time. Bella would have been happy to stay in his embrace forever, but her body betrayed her again by yawning. She frowned. Humanity was so overrated.

Edward grinned at her yawn and pulled away from her. "I think it's time for you to go to sleep."

Bella was seized by a sudden panic. "Are you leaving?" She asked, trying to calm her voice and failing.

"Do you not want me to?" His voice was gentle, but there was a fire burning behind it. She blushed again.

"Will you stay? I just …" She gave up on her pride. "I've missed you so much."

Her voice caught and Edward looked torn between pain and joy. "Then I will stay. At least until you fall asleep."

He moved toward the chair in the corner and Bella almost let him go sit down in it, but something in her stronger than her self-consciousness said, "You could lay down with me, you know."

She couldn't even begin to identify all the emotions in Edward's gaze now. "Are you sure?"

His voice was husky with feeling. "Yes." She replied, weakly.

Bella sat down on the bed and Edward followed her. Then she lay down and suddenly it all seemed like the most natural thing in the world for Edward to lie next to her, allowing her to curl against him. Bella managed to restrain a sigh of happiness. This was pure bliss.

"Good-night." His voice was a whisper, but it rung through the room with the force of the emotion behind it.

Bella was already half-asleep, easily swept away by the security of having Edward beside her. "Good-night." She murmured, and then was off to dreams full of Edward and his opera.

- - -

"James, it's simply not fair!" James lounged on a sofa in Jessica's dressing room. He regarded her with detachment. He wondered idly if she was going to stomp her foot next. She was acting like a child and had been since the moment she had called him this evening.

Ah, Victoria, you were right. She was not worth saving after all. Drinking her blood would certainly have been much more enjoyable than this ridiculous rant she was making him listen to. He considered simply killing her now and putting himself out of his misery, but couldn't be bothered to listen to Victoria's complaints if he did so.

Victoria had never liked Jessica, and she would be ever so irritated with him if he killed the opera star without her. "Jessica," he finally interrupted, "what exactly is the point of all this? What do you want me to do about it?" If she really was leading in to an attempt to hire him, she would fail. He wasn't fool enough to make the same mistake twice. If she had called off the hit once, then she was likely to do so again and he would not be so easily hired and fired.

Then again … he could smell the scent of that girl from where he was standing and he hadn't forgotten the fascinating other vampire who was here. The other vampire who was obviously also known as the Phantom of the Opera around here.

It was laughable really. Sure, he and Victoria had involved themselves with humans, but only as a matter of business and because it made life more simple. This other vampire though … who would willingly spend time with a human girl? It was all very interesting.

While James was considering all of this, Jessica was standing in front of him, fuming. "Well, I'm sure I don't know! You're the infamous hit man! You figure something out. Just make me the star of this opera."

James rolled his eyes, weary of her hysterics. "Why on earth do you want to star in this opera if you consider it such a travesty?" His voice was without inflection, bored. He didn't really care, but didn't have much better to do than try and understand her petty selfishness.

She looked at him as though he were an idiot. "It's going to be famous. People are coming from all over Europe to come see it already and it's only been a day since the managers announced they wanted to perform it. I don't care about the music!" She laughed as though the idea were humorous. "It's a terrible opera, but I should still be the star!"

James sighed. Why was he even still here? This was absolutely ridiculous. "Jessica, I want you to know that the actions I take from here on are entirely my own. My reasons for wanting to interfere in this opera house are …" he hesitated to tell her anything, but who would she tell? "Different from yours. In fact, I no longer care what you want, one way or the other."

He ignored her scandalized look and continued on, lazily flipping the pages of her part from Don Juan Triumphant. "However, I am grateful to you for telling me all of this. I have an idea for a most interesting … experiment."

He closed the part and traced the letters on the cover. Jessica looked outraged and shocked. She obviously wasn't used to being denied things. He enjoyed being the first to do so. "So I will take my leave now and you can just stay out of all of it. Learn your part." He set the music down on her side table and stood up.

"Now wait just a minute," she began, but James cut her off.

"Don't worry." He said, his voice falsely placating, "You might even be pleased with what I decide to do."

With those words, he left, plans for a drama of his own swirling in his head.

- - -

After Bella fell asleep, Edward lay in the dark for a long hour, torn in two. On the one hand, he had never felt so intensely happy as he did when watching Bella sleep curled at his side. On the other, he thought he was going to go mad if he didn't start writing down the melodies that were quickly overwhelming his brain.

He longed for a simple pen and paper, for then he could do both. Remain here and let some of the music in his mind spill out onto pages. Finally he gave up trying to hold it in and edged away from Bella's embrace. "Sorry love." He whispered, the pain of leaving her again was tangible, but this was important. "I'll be right back."

The fact that she was fast asleep and wouldn't even realize that he had left didn't make a difference to his heart, which felt like it was being ripped apart as he left her behind. He ran at his top speed back to his home, he didn't feel up to searching around for writing implements elsewhere, and felt as though he were flying the entire way.

That conversation, those kisses, sleeping with Bella … in the most innocent of ways, of course, but still. 'I don't want you to think that the ending of your opera is right. Because it's not.' He savored the remembered fire in her voice that had burned through those words. Whether it was true or not, whether Don Juan deserved Aminta or not, who ever could when Aminta is so incredibly perfect? Edward could do nothing now except do as Bella had pleaded.

He sprinted back up the stairs with paper and ink in hand and sat down at Bella's desk. For a long moment he just stared at her, watching the way her dark curls caressed her pale cheek and the way the blankets hugged her curves.

His hand began to write music practically without direction from him.

Three hours and dozens of sheets of paper later, Edward was writing a final note. He scribbled the last line, Yours, OG. And then set it down on top of the pile of sheets of music.

He stepped over to Bella's bedside and kissed her forehead with a feather light brush of his lips. "I'll be right back, Bella."

He picked up the music and was off. In whole, his journey only took him a few minutes before he was back and slipping into the bed beside his Bella again. When she nestled against him after he had settled in, there were no words for how completely and utterly joyous he was. "Bella." He whispered, his breaking voice a prayer and worship to the heavenly, perfect creature in his arms.

Meanwhile, in the managers' office, there lay a note on top of a stack of music sheets.

Dear Messieurs,
I would be much obliged if you would replace the current ending of my opera with these pages.
Yours,
OG

A/N: I hope everyone is having a fabulous summer. I know that mine has been absolutely jam-packed already ... and it's only the first week. Now, I have good news and bad news. The good news is ... well, I just gave you a pretty awesome chapter with that discussion I've been hinting at for forever. The bad news, I'm leaving for a trip to Europe tomorrow where I will have zero access to the internet. I get back in about two weeks and I promise you that I will update as soon as I possibly can. Meanwhile, I hope this tides you over. If this news crushes you (I'm very sorry, but not sorry enough to cancel my trip to Paris and Italy ;-) ) then I would recommend checking out my favorites list or the Phantom of the Opera section, especially if you've been pretty Twilight fanfic only until now. There are some fabulous stories over there!

Thank you so much to the people who reviewed the last chapter and everyone who has reviewed this story. You guys inspire me to write and update with your insightful, funny, and sometimes threatening reviews. ;-) Send me a review! Did you like Edward and Bella's conversation? What do you think of the new ending? What is James's plan? Thanks for reading and send me your thoughts!

Next Time: Three words. Don Juan Triumphant. What that's not good enough for you?! Fine, have five more. The Point of No Return. :-)