Dian was running down an endless corridor, the darkness around her smothering and choking. Laugher echoed off the walls and swarmed her head. Finally she was able to come to a halt at the end of the long hallway. But, there was nothing there! Just a wall, no door to pass through. All her work had been for nothing! Suddenly one person's laughter stood out the most. She turned around to see the dark figure of a man before her. A mask covered his face, but one eyes glimmered from behind it. He laughed even more loudly and grabbed Diane by the shoulder, shaking her roughly. Laughing, always laughing so cruely.
"You belong to me now, Diane! Diane!"
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Diane woke with a start. Adamo was standing over her, his nose close to touching her own. He was shaking her shoulder gently, and whispering in her ear.
"Time to get up, sleepy. It's already noon."
Diane bolted upright, but she still breathing heavily. The nightmare still flooded her mind.
"Adamo, what time did you say!"
Adamo rolled his eyes and stood up straight again. "I said it was noon! I've never known someone who could sleep so long!"
Diane jumped out of bed, racing around the room and grabbing bits and pieces of clothing from around the room. "Why didn't you wake me? You should've woken me up! I'm late for practice! Gemmé will be furious!"
Adamo sighed before grabbing the frantic girl by the wrist.
"I would've woke you up if I needed to. Gemmé is ill today, and you have the day off. Did you think I was slacking on my duties?"
Adamo was the only one that could wake Diane in the mornings. Oh, maids and other ballerinas had tried. But they were sent away with curses that they said were very unlady-like.
Adamo held up a wicker-basket and shrugged guiltily.
"I thought we could go sit on the roof of the opera house and have a picnic, but if you would rather do something else..."
He trailed off and Diane giggled. "Alright, but could you let me get dressed first?"
Adamo blushed furiously, only just then remembering that he was standing in front of a young girl in nothing but her night clothes.
"R-right, sorry. Meet me at the top of the grand staircase, then."
Diane laughed to herself once Adamo was out of the room. She quickly got dressed and brushed her hair rapidly. After she slipped on the light ballerina shoes she raced out of the room and into the hall.
At the foot of the grand staircase were some of the young ballerinas chatting and enjoying their day off. They giggled and argued, waving their hands to show what they meant.
"You don't understand! Roses are romantic! They're the flower that was made just so mean could give them to their lovers!"
Another young girl, Adeline, shook her head and stomped her foot.
"It doesn't matter what kind of flower," she said, "It should be the woman's favorite. Mine is a tulip. They are so pretty. I would want a tulip more than a rose."
This caused more arguing, but Adeline looked up at Diane.
"What is your favorite flower?" she asked, looking up with big brown eyes.
Diane thought for a moment. She had never given that much thought.
"Lilies, I guess. I like lilies."
The girls nodded and continued with their heated discussion on which flower was best to present to a lover.
Adamo smiled as Diane approached and picked up the wicker basket.
"Are you ready? It's a long way from here to the roof."
Diane nodded and followed Adamo, who lead the way. he looked behind to make sure she was following.
"I was able to nick a bottle of wine from the cellars. It should be very good."
Diane smiled and even laughed. It was very brave of him to try and steal wine from the cellars. The old man who guarded the cellars from people just like Adamo always carried a whip.
The went up many spiraling staircases and through many empty hallways that had walls covered in strange and colourful masks that were used for the operas. Finally they came to a large, heavy wooden door with a large latch. Adamo lifted it up and pushed mightily, and the door groaned open.
A gust of cool autumn air brushed against Diane's face and she sighed wistfully. It had been such a long time since she had been outside of the opera house.
She raced over to the edge of the roof, and looked downward at the new automobiles and all the people going about their day. She then looked at one of the large statues of god-like men riding horses with magnificent wings. It was sight to remember, and without knowing it, she was standing in the same place her mother had stood in so many years ago.
Adamo did not even gaze down, but climbed up one of the statues to sit behind the stone man. He set down to basket and opened it. Diane sat at the foot of the statue and took the bread and cheese that was offered, eating lightly and taking in the landscape.
Soon Adamo opened the wine bottle and took a large swig from the rim. He handed it downward and Diane took it in her hands. She peered inside to see the red liquid sloshing around. She gulped, then took a small sip. It was her first time drinking wine, and probably her last. It burned her throat, and left a strange sensation on her tongue. She shook her head, then handed it back up to Adamo. He shrugged, then took another large gulp.
This was how it went for the next half of an hour, Adamo eating and drinking the wine, while Diane politely refused the alcohol and ate silently. Then Adamo set the wind bottle down on the ground. Diane gazed at it, and realized that there was only a small amount left. had Adamo drunk all of that? She gazed up at him, and he smiled foolishly.
"You know, the gaze is rather nice up here. Beautiful even. Up here on the horse I mean. Its pretty down where you are too, I suppose." He giggled, and Diane felt the slightest amount of fear rise up her throat and mingle with the remaining feeling of the wine.
But, she complied, taking Adamo's outstretched hand. She sat in front of him and behind the stone man, so that the young man's hands wrapped around her waist to keep her steady. He pointed out at the city of Paris.
"See, you can see for miles here. Beautiful, isn't it?"
Diane nodded, feeling oddly uncomfortable. What was it she was feeling?
Adamo had grown quiet, his drunken murmurings finally faded away. He was staring at her, and she shifted uncomfortably. With the gentlest hands, Adamo turned Diane so that they were facing each other. Diane stared back, the only thing she could do. After each passing moment, their faces seemed to draw closer and closer, until finally, after what seemed to Diane to be ages, Adamo's lips touched hers ever so lightly, like a moth landing on a small flower. Soon they were wrapped in each other's embrace, having found the joys of a first kiss.
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As shadows passed over the roof the two new lovers lied in their embrace. But, behind a statue of a horse with no rider, stood a figure who seemed to be nothing more than a shadow. His head was hung, and his face was shadowed. Black hair fell around his face in pieces, and one ear was pierced with a strange silvery material.
His eyes at the moment were shadowed, but a drop of liquid fell from the left eye. A tear? Was this man crying? He stayed as he was, his shoulders shaking in silent sobs. But he stopped abruptly. This was not the time. He turned once more to look at the couple before turning and opening a door hidden behind on of the horses, only a gleaming, teary eye showing in all of that darkness.
(Aaaah, I'm sorry I haven't responded in a while. I lostmy inspiration, my obsession with the PotO. But it's back, and with a vengeance. It's not as strong, but I have a feeling it will last longer. Yeah, that's it. Anyways, reviews are wanted most desperately.
Oliver: -nods furiosuly- Please... she kicks me if there's not a lot of reviews... -softly- help me...)