Hi guys. I have bad news. This story has become a real burden to me, and its hard to write knowing I have a ton of work every moment. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue with this story. Perhaps I might update now and then but I just don't think I'll to continue. If any of you would like to continue with this story for me just let me know. Sorry, but I LOVE and thank you for all of your support.

Manon woke slowly and contentedly, her eyes reluctant to open. She was warm, comfortably set underneath large blankets, and snug upon very soft pillows. She was tempted to purr in her ease. Everything was so velvety soft, and in a way affectionate. But most importantly she was warm, deliciously warm.

Then Manon paused, heart sinking. Though comfortable, the blankets were not of the familiar cotton of the bed she had laid in for days before, nor was the pallet as cozy. This was unquestionably not her bed.

She bolted upright. And as many times before, she felt a painful throb explode from her side. As forced herself back down, eyes were wide, she looked about her.

Around her were numerous candles, glistening softly before black gossamer curtains that were hung from uneven cavern walls. Manon frowned and bit her tongue.

Not only was she not in her bed, she was not in her room.

She lay on a spacious bed, filled with deep crimson pillows and velvet coverlets. The bed was set oddly into the back of a shaped pewter swan, the head curving gracefully at Manon's feet.

As she lay there suspicions for a few more moments, the memory of the music came back to her. She remembered the distant melody in her mind and the way she had been drawn to it. She remembered a large mirror, and how the it seemed to come from there. She remembered the cold and emptiness that had filled her when the music had stopped. Lastly she could recall the way the mirror had slid open and the handsome white mask it had revealed.

With much trouble, Manon lifted herself from the bed onto her weakened limbs. She limped towards the curtains, eyes on the indistinct flickering of candles beyond. Her blouse was splayed open to reveal new and clean linen bandages about her waist. If her cheeks would have been accustomed to it, she would have flushed at the thought of his eyes upon her bosom as she replaced her dressings. But she was no blushing maid, so her embarrassment was forced to express with a lurch in her chest.

Her embarrassment fled as she pushed the gossamer curtains aside, all thoughts replaced by wonder, her breath caught in her throat.

Before her lay an immense cavern, a high ceiling of jagged dark rocks. The sight below was nonetheless miraculous. A radiant lake lapped at a grotto in the large cavern.

Manon stepped from behind the sheer curtains, side throbbing.

A mahogany desk lay in the corner, its surface clattered with various things, and next to it were large upright mirrors covered in dusty sheets. Glistening candles lit every inch of the cavern, and numerous candelabras were placed around a handsome pipe organ up against the wall.

And it was in a soft glow of the candles that light revealed a dark figure that sat at the organ.

With one hand, the Phantom was scribbling frantically upon a paper that was propped up against the keys, a quiet hum at his lips. His other hand glided across the keys silently playing an unheard piece. He seemed too absorbed in his work to notice her just yet.

Manon moved forward, her attentions fully upon the Phantom, so that she did not notice a short step carved into the hard floor. And expectantly, she tipped and stumbled.

The phantom had apparently heard her, and whipped around just in time to see her knees painfully hit the floor. To her surprise his eyes were half filled with exasperation and the other half with amusement.

"You foolish child," muttered the phantom before he half picked her up from the floor.

"You forgot to mention clumsy," muttered Manon once on her feet. She cast him an apologetic look.

"How could now be so stealthy if a sword duel but so very awkward else where?" Manon blushed at his comment.

"If you keep insisting to keep out of bed, then at least sit down in a chair."

He led her to a single chair at his mahogany desk.

Hand pressed to her side she sat down and looked at up at him, then around at the cavern.

"Welcome to my humble abode," the Phantom said, eyes riveted on her as she stared around in admiration.

"It's certainly distinctive," she said quietly. Silence settled between them again. Then Manon spoke up, eyes curious.

"It was you... the music, Wasn't it?" The phantom nodded, and gestured to the pipe organ.

"Indeed, forgive me if I disturbed your sleep."

Manon looked at him in intriguingly, "It was beautiful. ...It seems you are a knight in shining armor, a surgeon, and a musician all at once."

He let out a soft chuckle and Manon's heart skipped a beat. She found that she liked his laugh, deep and cool as it was. Part of his smile disappeared into the mask, as his lips curved into a dark smirk on the other side of his face. Manon secretly noticed the graceful way his unkempt hair fell before of dark brows.

The Phantom wore simple black trousers and a loose open shirt revealing the welcome familiar chest…

Manon closed her eyes and looked away gritting her teeth.

Manon, stop it!