My pathetic excuses are: My physics and english teachers banded together by both giving me huge projects due on the same day to keep me away from Fan Fiction. .
I'm very sorry. I'm still working.
But, since it is Thanksgiving Break, I think I can manage another chapter this week. Just to let you know. Love you all.
Jen
His Dancer
Chapter Four
Meg poked around the kitchen, and finding an apple, began to eat it to satisfy her stomach. She explored the study where Erik had stuffed his paintings on thin paper of Christine and a grin spread across her face. Yanking open the drawer, Meg shuffled through the mess of papers. Each was delicately done and Meg laid them gently next to her, digging deeper into the drawer. A journal with a leather cover lay at the bottom.
Meg reached in and pulled the small journal out. She ran her fingers over the binding, then, without hesitation, opened it and began to read.
They were notes. She saw sketches of Christine, notes about operas, and other things. Meg searched eagerly for anything about the stained-glass picture, but found nothing. She scooted away from the drawer so the lamp could shine better on the journal.
A slam cause Meg to scream and jump up, turning to find Erik behind her with a hand on the now closed drawer.
"S-sorry," Meg said, barely above a whisper. She held the journal out to him.
She could tell he was angry. Very angry. He whipped out his hand and the journal flew from her hands and landed with a soft thud on the ground.
"Never do it again. Understand?" he growled.
Meg shivered and didn't answer.
"Well!" Erik roared.
Meg turned and ran as fast as she could to the rooftop door, crying. Erik didn't bother following. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she peered over the edge of the rooftop at the streets of Paris. It was too early for anyone to be out. Meg cried more. She leaned against a statue of a rearing pegasus and watched the starry night sky. Soon, dawn would come.
About while later, Meg's crying had ceased. The eastern sky began to pale. Somewhere far off, a bird began to sing. Meg's stomach growled, reminding her of the abandoned apple laying on Erik's desk.
She had to get out. She had to escape. But she couldn't. She listened to the bird singing off in the distance and sighed. All she wanted was to go home.
"I was so stupid!" she cried out into the quiet morning. "I shouldn't have read it. Then maybe we could've gotten along!"
The bird had stopped singing, obviously startled at Meg's voice. Meg felt like crumbling to the floor. She rubbed her arms wishing she had a shawl.
"I'm sorry," Erik appeared behind her. Meg let out a little gasp."I shouldn't have yelled at you. I...I know I scared you."
Meg nodded, biting her lip. Erik held his hand out to her. "Now come. There's something I must show you."
With no hesitation Meg took it and Erik gently pulled her up. "Where are we...?" Meg started, but Erik held a finger to his lips, and she stopped.
He helped her step onto a statue and onto the roof. Meg smiled. He was finally going to show her what he had been working on the whole time. They walked on the tilted roof and up to where Meg had fallen before. Somehow, she felt more steady this time. Maybe it was because Erik held her hand all the way. Erik stopped short, and outstretched his arm to show her his work.
It wasn't what she had imagined. It was pieces of colored glass on the roof, showing a rose with a pale blue background, not a window at all.
"But why make one if no one is to see it?" Meg queried softly.
"Because," Erik replied, "this is for you."
"Me?" Meg gasped.
"Yes. I...I'm going to release you now. But if ever you should feel like you need help, and I shall not always be there, come here. It will listen. It will here you pain. Then, I will too. And I will come to you," Erik explained.
Meg was terribly confused. He was letting her go? This glass picture could understand her? She gasped. He was letting her go.
"But why?" she asked.
"You are not happy here. You want to go home. And, because I love you," Erik said quietly.
Meg just stared at him in awe. He loved her. Bending his head, Erik lightly kissed her on the lips. Before he could pull back, Meg returned it, longer and more meaningful than his.
When she finally let go, she realized they had both started crying. Did she really want to leave him? Erik gently took her hand and led her down, back to the rooftops with the statues. A small sliver of sun was showing. Erik walked faster, and pulled her inside. He led her through confusing halls and corridors, and before she knew it, she was on the stage in the opera. Before she could turn around to protest to Erik, he vanished.
Meg stood alone on the stage.