CHAPTER RATING: PG13
When Winifred returned home, she left the copy of Don Juan Triumphant that Erik had given her to practice with lying on her bed and went to the bathroom to draw herself a hot bath. Once she was undressed, she stood in front of the mirror and stared at her naked body. She'd always thought she was good-looking and even pretty, but now she saw her body differently. Was it good enough for someone else to see? She looked at how her long, blonde hair looked as it fell over her pale shoulders. Her mother used to call her Snow White after the fairy tale, but Winifred always thought that it would be rather frightening to see someone with skin as white as snow. She knew that golden blonde hair was something much admired, but hers was more of a white blonde. She suddenly noticed that her whiteness gave her features a lack of any depth whatsoever- she looked washed-out. She studied at her breasts and stomach. She hadn't had the opportunity to see many other women's bodies, aside from those in paintings. She placed her hands on the little bulge of her stomach. The women in artwork usually had bigger stomachs and thighs than she did, but the Phantom had been in the operahouse for years, around ballerinas who starved themselves so that they could be tossed higher. Skinny little girls like Christine Daae.
Christine.
She was the standard. She was the woman who drove him to insanity. Winifred suddenly felt ashamed of her body, embarrassed that she'd let him hold her so closely. She'd practically pushed herself on him! Maybe he hadn't even wanted to touch her.
Winifred suddenly felt sick at the sight of herself and climbed into the tub.
When she was bathed and dressed in her nightgown, she returned to her room. There, she found her father, sitting on her bed, reading Don Juan Triumphant.
"Where did you get this?" he asked her, voice even but stern.
"What?" Winifred replied, panic-stricken.
"This pornography," he said, suppressing an angry tone. He stood, reading from the book. "'What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?' Where did you get this, Winifred? From Johnathan?"
"I...uh...no..." She was at a complete loss for words.
"Because I don't see how else you could have gotten it. The only place I allow you to go without a chaperone is to the Bellos' home." He was approaching her now, voice rising.
He grabbed her arm violently and shouted, "WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?"
"I- I don't know!" Winifred's eyes were beginning to sting.
Her father let go of her arm and slapped her across the face. Winifred reeled and fell to the floor. "You will not leave this room until I say," he commanded, and left the room, slamming the door.
Winifred sat in the floor for nearly ten minutes, shocked, trying to contemplate what had just happened. She'd never disobeyed her father before. Or, when she did, either they were very minor offenses or she made sure that her father never found out about them. This was the first time since she was a little girl that she'd been caught. She never remembered him getting this angry before. Why?
And how long would he keep her there?