"Monsieur Fabrizio?"
Lucian turned from the counter where he was at work, to see Andrew coming up from a bow. "Ah, yes. Monsieur Marciano. Come in, come in."
Taking up a stool, Andrew said gravely, "Mademoiselle Fortino said you needed to see me."
"And rightly so," Lucian agreed. "Rihannon may not be entirely graceful, but the apple does not fall far from the tree in terms of intelligence."
"You suspect something about Mademoiselle Rossellini, Lucian?" Andrew asked, trying to get the man back on track.
"Only that Belladonna's time spent with the Opera Ghost is far too great for her metaphysical health."
"What are you going to do?"
"All Hallows Eve is coming, Andrew. The night when the veil between the worlds is thinnest."
~*~
Belladonna rolled onto her back as strains of "Think of Me" prodded her back to consciousness. Erik had turned the volume down (for once) and the sound had been switched to piano. Opening her eyes, she found herself on a pile of pillows, with the portcullis drawn to the floor behind her.
"So you've awakened."
"I have," Belladonna agreed, somewhat curious.
"You passed out at the end of rehearsal," he said, by way of explanation. "Have you been getting enough sleep at night?"
"Five hours."
"Nine is the usual," Erik said, rising from the organ to pace. "But with your schedule, even seven hours would be quite sufficient."
"What do you look like?"
The Phantom whirled around to face Belladonna. She looked exactly as he had found her, still wearing her white rehearsal gown with her raven black hair tied into a severe bun. The young dancer was much prettier than Christine had ever been and she asked questions, rather than barging straight in to find the answers.
"I wear a lot of makeup."
"Do you?" Belladonna asked, standing up to be near him.
In answer to her question, Erik began stripping the layers off. First, a pale outer skin came away from the left side of his face, revealing perfect, normally colored skin and a bit of manly stubble. Upon removing the mask, he revealed skin of the same color on the other side that looked to be carved out of stone by an inept sculptor. The next thing to be removed was a hair piece of coppery, slicked back hair that exposed soft, slightly curly auburn hair. To finish it off, Erik took out his brown contacts, revealing eyes of the deepest bluey-green.
"Why, you look exactly like Monsieur Loretto!"
"We were twins, I think. You're not in love with him, are you?"
"I love the personality and the man under the imperfections. I could gaze upon his perfect face for as long as I wanted to, but he could never replicate what my heart feels for you."
After that bold statement, Belladonna Rossellini kissed Erik Loretto quite passionately.
Lucian turned from the counter where he was at work, to see Andrew coming up from a bow. "Ah, yes. Monsieur Marciano. Come in, come in."
Taking up a stool, Andrew said gravely, "Mademoiselle Fortino said you needed to see me."
"And rightly so," Lucian agreed. "Rihannon may not be entirely graceful, but the apple does not fall far from the tree in terms of intelligence."
"You suspect something about Mademoiselle Rossellini, Lucian?" Andrew asked, trying to get the man back on track.
"Only that Belladonna's time spent with the Opera Ghost is far too great for her metaphysical health."
"What are you going to do?"
"All Hallows Eve is coming, Andrew. The night when the veil between the worlds is thinnest."
~*~
Belladonna rolled onto her back as strains of "Think of Me" prodded her back to consciousness. Erik had turned the volume down (for once) and the sound had been switched to piano. Opening her eyes, she found herself on a pile of pillows, with the portcullis drawn to the floor behind her.
"So you've awakened."
"I have," Belladonna agreed, somewhat curious.
"You passed out at the end of rehearsal," he said, by way of explanation. "Have you been getting enough sleep at night?"
"Five hours."
"Nine is the usual," Erik said, rising from the organ to pace. "But with your schedule, even seven hours would be quite sufficient."
"What do you look like?"
The Phantom whirled around to face Belladonna. She looked exactly as he had found her, still wearing her white rehearsal gown with her raven black hair tied into a severe bun. The young dancer was much prettier than Christine had ever been and she asked questions, rather than barging straight in to find the answers.
"I wear a lot of makeup."
"Do you?" Belladonna asked, standing up to be near him.
In answer to her question, Erik began stripping the layers off. First, a pale outer skin came away from the left side of his face, revealing perfect, normally colored skin and a bit of manly stubble. Upon removing the mask, he revealed skin of the same color on the other side that looked to be carved out of stone by an inept sculptor. The next thing to be removed was a hair piece of coppery, slicked back hair that exposed soft, slightly curly auburn hair. To finish it off, Erik took out his brown contacts, revealing eyes of the deepest bluey-green.
"Why, you look exactly like Monsieur Loretto!"
"We were twins, I think. You're not in love with him, are you?"
"I love the personality and the man under the imperfections. I could gaze upon his perfect face for as long as I wanted to, but he could never replicate what my heart feels for you."
After that bold statement, Belladonna Rossellini kissed Erik Loretto quite passionately.
