Time to update my story! I don't really have much to say as of late but don't except another chapter until Saturday night at the earliest. This is due to the fact that I have a busy weekend ahead of me. I don't know where this story is going but I'm trying to move it along as much as possible each chapter. There will be more Erik, dialogue, and background history in the upcoming chapters. I knew you were just dying for it! Alright, enough idle chit-chat and on with this story!
After Claire had left the roof with Meg she felt that same heavy burden on her shoulders, the one he had recently placed there. She had come face to face with her silent stalker and now questions formed in her mind. She didn't know what to make of the things he had said to her.
"What are on earth were you doing on the roof Claire?" Meg asked as they entered the dormitories. Meg didn't enter hers and instead followed Claire into her own. The other dancers were there, talking a mile a minute. When Claire entered they glanced in her direction but besides that took no notice of her. Instead, a few ran up to Meg and started rambling. Meg was more then happy to give them her undivided attention. Claire was usually left out of such discussions but today, a petite dancer named Sophie decided to bring her into the conversation.
"Who on earth sent you that rose Claire?" Sophie asked. The room fell into a hush. It was a favorite pastime of the younger dancers to tune into anything involving romance. Claire felt her cheeks blush.
"Just an admirer of sorts," she answered, hoping that it was sufficient enough to quiet their imaginations. It obviously was not.
"Oh, but it's just dripping with Romance," Claudia, one of the younger brats of the Opera House, added. Meg turned to Claire and said,
"Come on Claire, do tell us!" She felt all their eyes burning into her. They seemed to know what she was thinking, calculating her every move. Claire made a move for her bed but they followed. It was a comical thing, them copying her every move. She almost felt herself burst into laughter.
"He's a handsome man," Claire heard herself say, "His touch is cold but in his eyes there's a hint of warmth. He has the voice of an angel. It's as if his soul is on fire." The room was silent. They all seemed to be taken in Claire's somewhat passionate response.
"He must be some man," Meg said, "How I wish I could find someone like that!"
"Do we know this suitor?" Sophie asked. She seemed to be on the edge, ready to jump off if she didn't get the information she wanted. Claire grinned and now walked over to her bed. She didn't even care that the others drew closer to her. She sat down on the edge of her bed and picked up the rose which still lay on the bed side table. She twirled it between her two fingers.
"Someone must care an awful lot to take the thorns off," Claudia said, her voice full of longing. Claire nodded and placed the rose back down.
"Do we know this man?" Meg asked, taking a seat by Claire on her bed. She shook her head and began to mess with a strand of fabric that hung from her blouse.
"I don't know if you do," Claire responded, "I haven't really talked to him yet." The truth was, she didn't know if she wanted to get to know him. The Phantom, up until tonight, had been just a story. Now he was real.
Claire remembered the things he had said to her on the roof. How he wanted her to love him and no one else. This was a lot of ask of her.
"How much does this man know about me?" Claire thought.
"Claire, you are such a lucky girl," Sophie said, interrupting Claire's busy thoughts, "You're beautiful, an amazing dancer, and have this admirer who seems charming beyond my imagination." Claire tried to take the compliment seriously but she knew Sophie was just trying to get more information out of her.
"Thank you," she said anyway, "Now, I think I'm going to sleep now. No more questions please." The girls shrugged their shoulders and went back to their own conversations. Meg still sat with Claire on the bed.
"Who is it Claire?" Meg asked, "I know it's no one I know or you'd have told me by now." Claire shifted uncomfortably and smoother out her skirt.
"Just a man Meg," she responded, "Nothing special." Claire could tell that Meg was hurt. It wasn't like Claire to keep things from her friend. Meg stood up and left the room without even saying goodnight. Claire felt defeat. After all that had happened this day she needed sleep. She changed into a night gown and got beneath the covers. The room was chilled and she shivered despite the wool blanket that covered her. Soon, everyone else had gotten into bed for tomorrow was an early day. They had practice and preparation for opening night. Claire's eyes fluttered shut as she slipped into a deep sleep.
In this sleep she dreamed. She had been on the roof once more and the Phantom was there. He held her close, his usual gloved hands unmasked. She felt his icy touch and trembled with lust. He had spun her around and grasped her tightly. Those eyes had glowed, lifeless and living all at the same time. Then he had leaned in to kiss her. That is when the dream became hazy and Claire was unable to remember the rest.
She was awoken by the dead silence of the night. The room was pitch black, the shapes of the dancers could be seen outlined in this abyss. She sat up, her breathing hard and ragged. The dream had seemed so real, as if he'd been sitting on the bed with her while she dreamt. She knew that was folly. Why would he come to her twice in one night? She laid her head back down on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. She traced patterns in the air with her finger, attempting to become tired.
That is when she heard a click. She didn't know what to make of it. The room had been dead silent up until that moment. Possibilities raced through her head. Could it have been one of the brats up and about or someone checking on them? Both she ruled out since she could now see everyone asleep in their beds and no one ever came to check up on them.
"Whose there?" she whispered into the darkness. No one stirred. She heard a ruffle of fabric and in an instant a large hand covered her mouth. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. She looked up and saw him staring down at her, a smirk on his lips.
"Tomorrow night you will stand in for Sorelli," he said softly, "I will make sure you are the star." Her eyes grew wide at this statement. He uncovered her mouth and she got a good look of his gloves. Oh, what was his un-gloved touch like?
"I will come to see you," he continued, "Sometime soon." He ran his hand down her cheek. Their eyes were locked in a passion play. He gently removed his hand from stroking her cheek and got up.
"Go to sleep now my child," he whispered, staring at her with lustful innocence. She obeyed, closing her eyes and falling back into a now dreamless sleep.
