:D More comments! Thanks everyone. I tried updating sooner but I've been really tired. A few questions…

Sango-2099 wrote: "Nice story...but a few things bother me...
First, it went a little fast. I would have like to have read what happened the first week.
Also, Erik was a bit OOC. Tho i liked it when he got mad...;P"

I'm sorry I made the first week fast, but I didn't want to story to drag over something not very interesting. And if by OOC you mean Erik was being too nice, I agree. But don't worry, he'll get crazy pretty soon. :3

Also, the langolier said: "when you said "Vous êtes éveillé" were you trying to say "you've woken up?" because that would be vous vous etes reveille with the accent marks i'm too lazy"

Why yes! I was. Unfortunately I don't actually speak French. I was using an online translator. Sorry about that.

PotO characters © Grand Master: Leroux

There was a definite change in Amelia's behavior after that night. She rarely left her room, and when she did, she walked timidly like a mouse. She didn't call him Erik anymore. It was always, "monsieur".

Erik was too stubborn to apologize. Indeed, he felt bad about losing his temper, he felt guilty even, but he still regarded Amelia as if nothing had happened, growing agitated when she sat on the sofa and stared into the flames of the fireplace rather than asking strange questions like a curious child. He had not played any music since then, and she didn't ask him to. The only interaction between them was on one day where Amelia had inched up to him and said quietly, "Monsieur, may I have some paper and a quill?" She had hastened back to her burrow when he had given her some.

There was still a faint bruise around her small wrist.

I took it upon myself to see what that child has been up to as of late. While she was taking a bath one evening, I snuck into her room quietly and saw a pile of the papers I had given her on the floor. I reached for them, realizing just how much of a hypocrite I am. She had drawn many sketches of people upon the paper, some with beast-like tails, and others with extravagant feathers and beads strewn upon their hair. They were rather good. Actually, they were very good. As I admired this strange collection of sketches, I came across my final discovery. It was me! My horrid corpse's face and all! How did she know about my secret, that I had tried to keep hidden from the world ever since I could remember? I became paranoid. Perhaps she had seen me in those brief moments where I remove my mask? The subject of the mask never came up between us. Perhaps because she'd already seen what was behind it? A mix of anger and embarrassment swirled within me, until I heard the door click.

Instinctively, I jumped back, out of sight, in the shadows of the room. Amelia walked in, and closed the door behind her. She was wearing my silk kimono, and I hoped something underneath. She walked to the wardrobe, and let the robe slip off her shoulders to the floor. I saw her white flesh. I felt my face redden, praying I wasn't seen. Luckily she had forgotten something in the bath and dawned the robe again, slipping out of the room.

I never remember fleeing so fast in my life.

That morning Amelia woke to a colder room that she remembered. She looked out into the main room, and saw the fire had not been lit. Odd, she thought. She saw a book of matches lying near the hearth, and walked over to pick them up.

She felt a shadow come up behind her, and she spun, gasping when she saw Erik, who seemed rather close to her.

"So," he said coolly, "You've seen me."

The statement confused Amelia, "Excuse me?"

She saw him stiffen, "You have seen my face, you little weasel! And you didn't have the courage to even approach me! You had to hide and watch from somewhere safe."

Amelia frowned. She hated being accused of things she hadn't done. "I did nothing of the sort."

"You're lying!" he yelled.

Amelia was frightened, but she did not cower. "I am not," she said strongly.

"Then what is THIS?" Erik flung a crumpled piece of paper at her feet.

She bent to pick it up; flattening it out of the ball it had been made into. It was her picture! "How did you get this?"

He didn't answer, only said, "I believe you have to explain yourself to me first."

"You were in my room! How dare you!"

"You are the one in my house!"

Amelia began to shake with anger. "I didn't ASK to be kept here! But you're too much of a coward to even let me go!"

"Coward am I? You were the one hiding from THIS," and with that Erik ripped the mask from his face.

Amelia couldn't help but go a little wide-eyed. There was a deafening silence. She could see sweat on Erik's forehead, and a little panic in his eyes.

"I may have some bad qualities, monsieur," she said, still remaining firm, "But sneaking around is your ability, I believe."

His lips tightened. He turned abruptly, clenching his fists, until he picked up a vase from an end table and hurled it and inch from Amelia's head.

She stood stunned. His shoulders were heaving and trembling.

"Well," she said with a trembling voice, "I'm glad your soul matches your face so well." With that, she walked to her room and slammed the door.

As she lay steaming mad in her bed, she could hear Erik weeping from his room. She sighed and put a pillow over her head to drown out the sound. His voice was beautiful even when he cried.

That evening, she had emerged from her room again. Erik was sitting on the sofa, reading a book. She gathered her courage and approached him. He did not look up from his reading, so she gently shut the book set in his lap.

"Erik," she said softly, "I do not want to live as an enemy with you."

He said nothing but she could tell he was listening.

She knelt in front of him. "I can forgive you if you can forgive me," she looked into his eyes.

Slowly, she raised her hand to rest upon the mask, and took it off, setting it on the couching next to Erik.

He looked nervous, but he did not yell or move to get the mask.

"Do you forgive me?"

He paused a moment, looking hard upon her face. "Of course."

She smiled slightly. "And I forgive you. Yet, I ask one other thing of you, to reconcile your actions."

He raised an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

She grinned broadly, "Take me to an opera!"

A/N: Another day, another chapter. :3 Stay posted.