Thank you so much for your reviews. I'm really glad you liked the last chapter, cuz I enjoyed writing it. (imagine erik getting pujabed with his own lasso).
Review Responses:
Moonjava: thanks for your reviews. I'm really glad that you've liked it.
I Love Gerry: I'm glad you liked the chapter. It was fun to write. I like making Meg a little tougher. Since I already put her through so much, I though that she would become quite a tough cookie. And yes, in this chapter and forward, Erik starts to lighten up. Don't worry, they will soften up with each other and we'll get into all the making out and probably some lemons.
Nelys1: Yay, thanks for your review. Ya, I thought it was funny that Meg tried to punjab Erik of all people. Don't worry, there's still a lot left to write.
PrincessBlackRose: BECCA! glomps Thank you for reviewing! I'm really glad you liked it. I hope you update on your other story!
Nameless Waif: MY EVER FAITHFULL REVIEWER! I'm glad that you get that stuff now. Yes, it would be pretty funny if Meg had said yes. I would be laughing hysterically as I wrote that part, but that kind of stuff won't be till much later. I forgive you for forgetting about what Madame Giry did for Erik. I forgot some phantom stuff lately too and I was like HOW DID I FORGET THAT! I don't know if I will go into a lot more about Meg's thoughts on suicide and I hope this chapter clarifies why. After all, her and Erik have got to get together sometime soon. Also, incase you are wondering, I have no idea when the last chapter of Two Hearts will be up, but it will go up as soon as my beta reader gets back to me about it.
Emily singing reflection:MY OTHER EVER FAITHFULL REVIEWER!I'm glad you like it. It certainly is a bit different from Two Hearts, which I think is a lot lighter. "OOC" means out of character. I'm glad you like the dialouge. Its fun to write the little bits where Meg and Erik are at each other's throats. Ya, sorry I forgot to mention her taking off all the makeup. Lets just say its been gone.
DISCLAIMER: don't own POTO
4. I Hope You Dance
For countless hours I sat on my bed, almost motionless, and very tense. I could not help but wonder why the Phantom had spared my life. The more I thought about it, the more puzzled I became, especially with what he had did to his victims. Buquet had caught fleeting glimpses of him but had spread his knowledge of the Opera Ghost like wildfire. Piangi had only gotten in the way of his plan to capture Christine and he had disposed of him as a mere pawn in the games he played with the opera house. I had tried to kill him, so why wasn't I dead yet?
As if that was not enough, I was still trying to understand what he had meant by "if it wasn't for your mother". I knew that my mother had been the go-between for him and the managers, but why had that been so significant? I felt like there had to be more, but what? She had never told me anything of the Opera Ghost, only that I should stay away from him. None of this was making any sense.
The silence that never ceased to haunt this lair was unnerving. I could hardly take it. Every moment I was half expecting him to rush in and I would meet the lasso's deadly embrace. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I would have truly minded. This empty continuation of life didn't seem worth living, if you could call it living. For the first time in my life, I was actually considering death as a way to free myself. It seemed perfectly reasonable. Once I was gone I wouldn't have to deal with any of the world's cruelties and I would finally find the family that had been so brutally torn away. Yet something kept holding me back from death's salvation. It was a childish fear really. The cross from life to death, or rather the means I would have to use for it, held me back. I didn't have the courage to do it, but I knew someone who didn't give a second thought about spilling blood. It would be quite easy to anger the Phantom and get him to end it for me. But did I want to feel the painful snap of the lasso breaking my neck, or even worse, would I give him victory?
Something almost silently stirred outside my room. This was it, I knew it was. The Phantom would give just one quick yank and my miserable life would be over. My entire body tensed as my heart started pounding in my chest. I watched with a petrified gaze as the curtain was pulled aside and the Opera Ghost stood there like a shadowy specter, yet what puzzled me was what he held in his hands. It was not the sinister lasso that I had been expecting, but instead a tray with a glass of water with a decent slice of bread and a piece of cheese. I looked at him questioningly, increasingly baffled by his actions.
"What? Did you think that I would starve you? I may be a cruel man, Little Meg, but I do treat some people with decency." I wondered if I should feel very titled to be one of those people. I remained frozen to my spot on the bed as he sat the tray down by my feet. I looked at the food before me. It looked okay, but I had a feeling that it had been tainted. The food probably contained some kind of poison, or perhaps a potion to knock me out and let him fulfill his own lustful wishes with my unconscious body. I shuddered at the thought. I would not givehim of all people the same pleasure that men had stolen from me before.Furthermore I would certainlynot give him the satisfaction of winning. It would take more than a dirty trick like that to bring me down. I looked at the food questioningly. I had to admit, I was incredibly hungry. I hadn't eaten anything since I ate dinner on the night of my escape. My eyes returned to the phantom, trying to find if his cold eyes contained any hints of deception.
"No, I did not poison it. Besides, from what you did earlier, it would seem as though you are begging for death."
His words made me uneasy. Isearched his eyesagain but they were as distant and unchanging as always.He had been right about me almost begging for death. 'Couldn't have said it better myself.' It made me wonder why I would care if the food was poisoned. There was nothing to lose. I took a bit of the bread and bit into it. Nothing tasted different. I hungrily tore another piece off, eating greedily and not caring if the Phantom thought that I was unladylike. God knows that he had already gotten that point from my former profession. You couldn't get more unladylike than that.
Despite my dying fears, it was days before I felt comfortable enough with sleeping. Wide-eyed fears of finding the lasso around my neck when it was too late to get out kept me very awake. I stayed in my room at all times, only leaving when it was absolutely necessary, while keeping vigils at night.
It had been quite a while before I even heard the Phantom play again. Though I had lost a since of time in this world of unending night, I knew it had been weeks before a note had been played. I found it a bit more relaxing, easing the nerve-wracking silence that contributed to my fears. At least the music let me know that he was not sneaking up on me. Yet the music was night the same. When I had attempted to hang him, the Phantom had put so much more freedom into his musical release, diving completely into it and losing all awareness of the world around him. There was something different about it now. Restrained passion flowed through the keys and there was no other way to describe it than it lacking its true potential. Though I was wise enough not to even attempt such a thing again, I knew that he would not present the opportunity again.
Slowly but surely I was beginning to adapt to the unending darkness, but I still missed the surface. I missed fresh air and sunlight. But at least I was protected from the other dangers that the world above held. The thought of the whorehouse still haunted me, making me shudder. It was easy to understand why my captor had hid himself down here. The world could be so cruel and sometimes darkness deep as hell was the only way out.
My adaptations did not extend so much to the Phantom. I had not forgotten the crimes he had committed against me nor his fragile temper, though I was able to deal with his presence. I had not forgotten his fury and it was something I had hoped I would never know of again. It had been at least a month before I felt safe walking freely around the lair. I spent a lot of time sitting by the lake, watching the mist silently caress the water and faint rays of light dance across the surface. It was strange how a place filled with danger could be filled with such peace. Yet somehow, inside, I felt like I was dying. My life, which had once been so alive and passionate, had dwindled down into almost nothing. Something was stirring inside of me, something that wanted to resurrect the excitement about living that I had once known. Something in the depths of my soul encouraged me to dance.
I got up from my seat at the shore of the lake, looking for a spot that had enough room. I came across a small alcove, quite similar to my room, with a floor covered in Persian rugs.I stretched my limbs, finding that I was not as flexible as I once had been. Ever so slowly, I began to dance, my feet gliding nimbly over the carpet as my hands and arms twirled over my head. A sad, soulful melody played in my head, becoming its own creation. My body began to bend and move to the silent song in my mind and I let all of my pain and anguish release itself in my movement. Memories were flooding back so quickly. I saw myself dancing on the stage about a year ago, when I was a great ballerina. It flashed to the journey through the labyrinth; holding that white half-mask to the faint light. I saw mama on her death bed, whispering her last words, her last breath. Living on the streets. The whorehouse. The night I lost my virginity, my precious virginity that I had wished to offer the husband I did not know yet. Tears began to trickle down my cheeks as the movement reminded yet almost seemed to relieve the awful memories that I was burdened with. My rhythm quickened, matchig the tempo of the song inside my head. My strange, passionate dance let the pain flow like the tears streaming down my face. More visions of the past flashed before my eyes. My last customer. Running away and dashing through the streets.That shadow that always watched me, with eyes, eyes that werefreezing cold, but burned with hellfire. Eyes of the Phantom. I twisted and turned faster and faster, breathing ragged sobs with tears streaming down off my cheeks to the floor as I desperately sought for relief from my past.My body was beginning to ache and every step I took burned my feet, but I did not stop. This would be my means of suicide. I would keep dancing until I danced myself to death, until I had released allof the passionate anger and vengance my soul had fostered, and no one, not even the Phantom, would stop me. The silent song reached its crescendo and I found that I could not go on. I crashed to the floor in a sweaty, exhausted heap, feeling like scars of the past had been torn open again, yet strangely healed.
It was only then that I noticed the familiarshadow in the corner, casually leaning against the wall, and a pair of wide, icy blue eyes watching me.
I hope you guys are happier with this chapter. I tried to make it a little longer.This chapter, without the review shout outs or author's notes came to about 2 2/3 pages on word.I'm not entirely sure when the next chapter will be up but it should be some time soon. It should also be when the romance begins and meg and erik will stop trying to kill each other. Tell me what you think! I love it when you review!