A/n: I've decided to knuckle down and work. I'm already working on the next
chapter the same night I wrote the last. ::sighs:: I don't have much time
to write anymore.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. Gaston Leroux does. The song is another verse of 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief'. There are a total of 7 verses. The next four will be placed in the story, but not one after another. Does that make any sense?
I'm also finished writing a story called Concrete Angel, Daddy's Hands. It's no where near as good as I as hoped it would be, but it will do. I hope everyone here will read that one, too.
I've looked through my chapters recently and realized I just may have to change Emily age. If that upsets anyone, I apologize, but I simply cannot see Erik falling in love with a sixteen-year-old girl.
I hope you enjoy this chapter.
~~~~
Chapter Twelve: The Dinner and the Note
Emily was getting ready for her dinner with James. She'd asked Mary if Emma could spend the night, and Mary agreed. That would give Emily a night to herself.
She finished with the dress, and went to the vanity to put on makeup. She didn't have time to go home and get ready, so she was still in her dressing room at the Opera. James had asked her to dinner before rehearsal.
Emily began humming as she finished with her makeup, and started to sing as she put on her earrings.
"} 'Twas night; the floods were out; it blew
A winter hurricane aloof.
I heard his voice abroad and flew
To bid him welcome to my roof.
I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest
And laid him on the couch to rest;
Then made the earth my bed, and seemed
In Eden's garden while I dreamed.{"
Emily glanced at the clock. She was late!
She grabbed her purse, checked her appearance one last time in the mirror, then left.
*****
Erik sighed as he watched her leave the room. She looked beautiful in that dress, though the dress was quite simple. The light silver color brought out her eyes.
Her voice was more beautiful then he had remembered. Then again, he had not been in full health when he had heard it before.
/I owe her my life./ it occurred to Erik. Why he had never thought of that before eluded him.
Erik opened the mirror and stepped out once he was certain she would not return. He left his note on the vanity table, but could not bring himself to return to his house just yet. He looked around. It was quite normal in there. Her dress had been hastily thrown onto a chair; there were brushes as well as makeup left out on the vanity table, shoes hurriedly placed away.
Erik walked over to the dress and let his fingers caress the soft fabric. He was falling under a spell...
No! He wasn't in love, he wasn't! He'd prove it, as well. He'd leave this room without another thought.
He'd just leave.
But first he'd just look around a little more...
*****
Emily paused to catch her breath. She ran her fingers through her hair again, then walked around the corner to face the grand staircase. At the bottom of it James waited in a fine tuxedo holding a blood-red rose. When she began down the staircase, James turned to look at her.
Her golden blonde hair was down. It was shining and it curved slightly away from her face at the cheekbones, then curved back in at it reached her chin. It seemed more golden the ever.
Her dress was a silver-blue, with one line of white lace around the neck. The sleeves clung to her arm until it reached the elbows, where it flared out. It went out a little at the waist, with ruffles of fabric. Two smooth pieces of fabric covered the back and left and right sides of the skirt. The fabric may have been satin- but Emily didn't know much of fabrics, and neither did James.
James couldn't see it yet, but the back was cut down fairly low, with a silk ribbon tying the center of it.
Her earrings were two small silver hearts, hanging to the beginning of her jaw. A string of pearls were around her neck.
As she finished down the stairs James handed her the rose. She blushed and thanked him, and taking his arm, left the Opera.
*****
As their plates were placed in front of them, they're conversation on weather ended.
Emily pushed the food around her plate with her fork, but eventually put a little of the food on it and put it into her mouth. She wasn't very hungry.
"So..." James started. "You have a little sister?"
"Yes." Emily answered.
"How old is she?"
"Five."
"Mmm." He answered.
"Do you have any siblings?" Emily asked after a pause.
"No." he said. "How many siblings do you have?"
"Three. Two of them live with my father."
"And what of your Mother?"
Emily paused, and drew a heart from the frost on her glass.
"She's dead."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's alright." Emily looked back up and forced a smile. "What about your parents?"
"They're both still living in England."
"Oh." Emily said.
Silence.
"So you live with your younger sister?" James asked.
"Yes, I do. My cousin Mary is watching her right now."
"Hmm."
They ate for a few minutes.
"How far does your cousin live from you?" James asked.
Emily found that an odd question, but answered;
"Ten houses away, but I live in an area where the houses a fairly far away from each other."
"Really?"
"Yes, it's on the outskirts of Paris."
"Interesting."
"Where are you staying?" asked James.
"I'm staying at a hotel near the Opera until I find a suitable house."
"Hm."
A pause.
"What made you interested in working at the Opera?" James asked.
"I needed work and I thought that the Opera may be in need of jobs." She lied. She hated lying, but for some reason she thought she ought to leave Erik out of it.
"Hmm."
They ate in silence for nearly ten minutes.
"If you do not mind, how did your Mother die?"
Emily sipped her water in an attempt to give her more time.
"I'd...rather not." She said.
"Alright. I apologize for asking such a personal question."
"It's alright."
They paused for five minutes.
"Well, shall we move on to dessert?"
*****
Emily walked into her dressing room and sighed. She leaned against the door for a moment and then set the rose aside, and reached for her dress when she noticed a note on her vanity.
"What is this?" she wondered. She picked it up. On the front it read 'Mademoiselle Lamb' in red ink.
"How did anyone get in here?" she wondered. Then again, she had left the door unlocked. She'd have to start locking it from now on. She opened the letter.
'Mademoiselle Lamb,
It seems our paths have crossed once again, and I am glad of it. If you do not mind, would you meet me on the roof tomorrow night at 6:00, after the Opera? Please leave a response in Box Five.
Erik'
Emily was shocked. She never thought she'd see that man again. She quickly wrote a response on another piece of paper, and left.
~~~~~
The dinner didn't go as well as I planned, but it'll do. The next chapter will be better. As well as the one after that, I promise. Please continue reading this story, even though it takes me forever to upload. ^_^
Oh, and I am not certain if it's possible to go from her dressing- room to the Grand Staircase. If it isn't, let me know, please. Thank you.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail
Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. Gaston Leroux does. The song is another verse of 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief'. There are a total of 7 verses. The next four will be placed in the story, but not one after another. Does that make any sense?
I'm also finished writing a story called Concrete Angel, Daddy's Hands. It's no where near as good as I as hoped it would be, but it will do. I hope everyone here will read that one, too.
I've looked through my chapters recently and realized I just may have to change Emily age. If that upsets anyone, I apologize, but I simply cannot see Erik falling in love with a sixteen-year-old girl.
I hope you enjoy this chapter.
~~~~
Chapter Twelve: The Dinner and the Note
Emily was getting ready for her dinner with James. She'd asked Mary if Emma could spend the night, and Mary agreed. That would give Emily a night to herself.
She finished with the dress, and went to the vanity to put on makeup. She didn't have time to go home and get ready, so she was still in her dressing room at the Opera. James had asked her to dinner before rehearsal.
Emily began humming as she finished with her makeup, and started to sing as she put on her earrings.
"} 'Twas night; the floods were out; it blew
A winter hurricane aloof.
I heard his voice abroad and flew
To bid him welcome to my roof.
I warmed and clothed and cheered my guest
And laid him on the couch to rest;
Then made the earth my bed, and seemed
In Eden's garden while I dreamed.{"
Emily glanced at the clock. She was late!
She grabbed her purse, checked her appearance one last time in the mirror, then left.
*****
Erik sighed as he watched her leave the room. She looked beautiful in that dress, though the dress was quite simple. The light silver color brought out her eyes.
Her voice was more beautiful then he had remembered. Then again, he had not been in full health when he had heard it before.
/I owe her my life./ it occurred to Erik. Why he had never thought of that before eluded him.
Erik opened the mirror and stepped out once he was certain she would not return. He left his note on the vanity table, but could not bring himself to return to his house just yet. He looked around. It was quite normal in there. Her dress had been hastily thrown onto a chair; there were brushes as well as makeup left out on the vanity table, shoes hurriedly placed away.
Erik walked over to the dress and let his fingers caress the soft fabric. He was falling under a spell...
No! He wasn't in love, he wasn't! He'd prove it, as well. He'd leave this room without another thought.
He'd just leave.
But first he'd just look around a little more...
*****
Emily paused to catch her breath. She ran her fingers through her hair again, then walked around the corner to face the grand staircase. At the bottom of it James waited in a fine tuxedo holding a blood-red rose. When she began down the staircase, James turned to look at her.
Her golden blonde hair was down. It was shining and it curved slightly away from her face at the cheekbones, then curved back in at it reached her chin. It seemed more golden the ever.
Her dress was a silver-blue, with one line of white lace around the neck. The sleeves clung to her arm until it reached the elbows, where it flared out. It went out a little at the waist, with ruffles of fabric. Two smooth pieces of fabric covered the back and left and right sides of the skirt. The fabric may have been satin- but Emily didn't know much of fabrics, and neither did James.
James couldn't see it yet, but the back was cut down fairly low, with a silk ribbon tying the center of it.
Her earrings were two small silver hearts, hanging to the beginning of her jaw. A string of pearls were around her neck.
As she finished down the stairs James handed her the rose. She blushed and thanked him, and taking his arm, left the Opera.
*****
As their plates were placed in front of them, they're conversation on weather ended.
Emily pushed the food around her plate with her fork, but eventually put a little of the food on it and put it into her mouth. She wasn't very hungry.
"So..." James started. "You have a little sister?"
"Yes." Emily answered.
"How old is she?"
"Five."
"Mmm." He answered.
"Do you have any siblings?" Emily asked after a pause.
"No." he said. "How many siblings do you have?"
"Three. Two of them live with my father."
"And what of your Mother?"
Emily paused, and drew a heart from the frost on her glass.
"She's dead."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's alright." Emily looked back up and forced a smile. "What about your parents?"
"They're both still living in England."
"Oh." Emily said.
Silence.
"So you live with your younger sister?" James asked.
"Yes, I do. My cousin Mary is watching her right now."
"Hmm."
They ate for a few minutes.
"How far does your cousin live from you?" James asked.
Emily found that an odd question, but answered;
"Ten houses away, but I live in an area where the houses a fairly far away from each other."
"Really?"
"Yes, it's on the outskirts of Paris."
"Interesting."
"Where are you staying?" asked James.
"I'm staying at a hotel near the Opera until I find a suitable house."
"Hm."
A pause.
"What made you interested in working at the Opera?" James asked.
"I needed work and I thought that the Opera may be in need of jobs." She lied. She hated lying, but for some reason she thought she ought to leave Erik out of it.
"Hmm."
They ate in silence for nearly ten minutes.
"If you do not mind, how did your Mother die?"
Emily sipped her water in an attempt to give her more time.
"I'd...rather not." She said.
"Alright. I apologize for asking such a personal question."
"It's alright."
They paused for five minutes.
"Well, shall we move on to dessert?"
*****
Emily walked into her dressing room and sighed. She leaned against the door for a moment and then set the rose aside, and reached for her dress when she noticed a note on her vanity.
"What is this?" she wondered. She picked it up. On the front it read 'Mademoiselle Lamb' in red ink.
"How did anyone get in here?" she wondered. Then again, she had left the door unlocked. She'd have to start locking it from now on. She opened the letter.
'Mademoiselle Lamb,
It seems our paths have crossed once again, and I am glad of it. If you do not mind, would you meet me on the roof tomorrow night at 6:00, after the Opera? Please leave a response in Box Five.
Erik'
Emily was shocked. She never thought she'd see that man again. She quickly wrote a response on another piece of paper, and left.
~~~~~
The dinner didn't go as well as I planned, but it'll do. The next chapter will be better. As well as the one after that, I promise. Please continue reading this story, even though it takes me forever to upload. ^_^
Oh, and I am not certain if it's possible to go from her dressing- room to the Grand Staircase. If it isn't, let me know, please. Thank you.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail