A/N: This is just the first half of a giant chapter that I will post. The second part is coming either tonight or tomorrow night. Well, I hope you enjoy and Julian is just peeking around the bend : )

Rare Conversation

June

Most of the meals were spent in silence and I was the only one to ever eat. How he had enough energy to haunt was beyond me. Perhaps he ate when I was asleep? If not, it made no sense. Yes, I knew he barely ate…but when exactly was that?

"I gather your dreams did not involve cleaning dressing rooms?"

This had been a rather blunt question of him to ask, especially out of the blue. And being quite ill-prepared for him to say anything during meals, I had then choked rather noisily on a pickled egg.

Once he uneasily asked if I was all right (to which I briskly nodded), using a rather mockingly playful tone, I said, no, it actually had not been my dream and even inquired as to whether he knew anyone with whom this was to the contrary.

In response to my sardonic reply, he gracefully leaned back in his chair, crossing his long, elegant arms and looked down his mask's nose at me, eyeing me thoughtfully with those beautiful, golden orbs.

Strange how over the course of the next few days he was asking more and more questions… and did I dare to think, he was becoming more pleasant?

It irked me not to know the answers to all the mysteries surrounding Erik…and I tried not to take it personally that I was forbidden to call him by name. Throughout the days, it was Monsieur this and Mademoiselle that. Being so formal and courteous was very interesting indeed – this being between a captor and a prisoner and all.

Of course, every morning I would awaken to a blinding pain that cut through my brain like two hands wringing something dry. It was a constant reminder that Julian was patiently waiting for my return, prepared for an uncertain confrontation. What I did know was that my options were limited and that he was contemplating of a way to punish me for all the rules I had broken. No, I didn't know, I could feel it, through a bond we shared, through this evil deal that had linked us.

On the morning of the fourth day, however, it was a little easier to forget about the throbbing, because upon my vision clearing, I found a wonderful surprise – Erik's heavy, velvet cloak was covering me! The Phantom really had no idea how enormous of a comfort it was and how much it consoled me! So much so, that I was in a worry-free zone, all the way up until he gestured for us to sit down and play yet another futile game of chess.

Between moves, I could sense him looking up at me, almost as though he wanted to catch me staring at him. Even though I yearned to look at up and absorb as much as possible, I was very careful not to observe him for too long, lest he think I had an insatiable curiosity of some sort for his face. Maybe it had something to do with what I admitted to…?

But I wasn't really curious – was I? Of course I was! But it didn't mean I would ever do what Christine had done in the book. Or…would do?

Again I wondered what had become of Christine and when she would be due on the scene. And oh God, I hoped I would never meet her…I vowed that such an encounter would be worse for her than for it would be for me!

"You appear to be frustrated," the Phantom commented wryly, obviously reading the sour expression on my face. Looking up at him, I realized that indeed, my face had shown my thoughts when they drifted about Christine and her nasty, inconsiderate actions.

Though maybe I was being unfair, since she hadn't actually done anything…yet.

Was I merely distracted or…was this just not my game? Board games were my game. Monopoly was my game. Other silly little games were my game. Perhaps not chess… Memories drifted back into my mind's eye – ones with me and my dad playing chess; I had always been too impatient to ever complete an entire game with him. Maybe I was too young to learn…

"I'm not very good at this." I conceded.

And in a matter-of-fact tone, he replied without losing a beat, "Evidently so."

"Thank you." I grumbled barely above a whisper, what little of my tone was audible, laced with my own brand of sarcasm. Four days in his company had made me rather brave! So much so that I was giving the Phantom attitude!

To my utter surprise, all Erik did was whiff out some air in amusement – the evident twinkle of which could be deciphered in those orbs that tended to change colour according to his mood. Truly, I was glad that it had been a while since they had appeared wild with fury!

When my attention returned to the board, I realized that it was my turn, and I sighed, sounding much too resigned.

"Who was it that taught you to play chess, Mademoiselle?"

My chest constricted slightly before I forced it to release, "My father."

"Perhaps he hasn't finished his instruction."

Without thinking, I reacted. "Seeing as he left my mom and me when I was ten, no, he didn't." I didn't know what had come over me, and this time my statement followed his own without hesitation and it managed to throw him off into a momentary silence.

He made no response, but barely removed his hardened glare from my eyes, and reached to move his bishop into a threatening spot. Then, lifting both elegant hands to form an arch in front of him, and it seemed, he calculatingly entwined his long, graceful fingers.

Oh, he so know he's going to win this one!

As I reached tentatively toward a piece I had been eyeing since before his move, a soft voice purred into the silence, completely distracting me.

"So, Mademoiselle," Erik began in a rather haughty tone, "how long have you resided in Paris?"

"Uh…just a little over a month." Finally, I moved my chess piece, feeling rather satisfied with the decision.

"What was your reason for coming?" Without blinking, he moved his Bishop, knocking the very same piece aside.

Exasperatedly shocked, I could barely answer him. "I came…to visit someone…so to speak."

He tipped his head, just slightly, and continued to eye me. "A relative?"

Uh…no

"Not really."

"A friend?"

Sigh…I wish!

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, though unsure of what I was going to say, the small clock on his mantle chimed four times.

Saved by the Bell! I love that cliché right now!

Standing smoothly before me, he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a golden timepiece, flipping it open to give it a glance.

"As much as you appear to be enjoying this game, Mademoiselle, I regret to inform you that it's time for you to get ready for Chorus rehearsal."

In complete silence and standing as still as a statue, he watched the series of reactions that were clearly reflected on my face:

First, the confusion.

Then, the realization.

And finally, the implication.

"You…got me into the Chorus?"

Still he said nothing, but merely glared at me with a soft twinkle in his eyes.

Too happy to think of hiding how I felt from this news, I sprang to my feet, and proceeded to hop up and down giddily before, by reflex, capturing his torso and pinioning his arms with my own.

It was when his frame went rigid that I realized the rashness of my actions. Slowly, with cautious movements, I stepped away from him, just slightly and removed my arms from his person.

His breathing had apparently quickened, and I could tell that his eyes were enlarged behind the mask. Still, his gaze didn't leave me.

"I'm sorry!" I whispered sharply, looking up at him with apologetic eyes, and for a tense moment neither one of us moved or said a thing. He must have recovered, the shock having worn off then, I gathered, because he sighed and even blinked…

Expecting him to step back, he just stood there, looking down at me, and in turn, I stared back up at him, tears threatening to form in my view. Lost in the trance that was cause by his wonderful gaze, I finally managed to muster my gratitude:

"Thank you, Monsieur!"

Hm... I wonder whether I'll get any reviews... (inconspicuously gesures at little blue-ish botton at the bottom left side of the screen)