To my dear readers:
Ah, I have received my first review and I thank you kindly Mademoiselle K.G. I pray you shall all enjoy this leçon. Now that is said, read your heart out! Merci!
Your Faithful Servant,
L.V.
Leçon 3
Erik could not compose a single word while Lisette lay in her feverish sleep. His hair was tosseled, his shirt wrinkled and his eyes red and swollen. How could he write a decent song when a feverish girl was in his bed? He worried for her, more than he had worried about anyone in his lifetime.
With no clue what to do with himself he walked over to the pile of Lisette's things. He had folded them neatly when he had changed Lisette into a clean, dry nightgown but he kept her virtue and left her undergarments on, he knew that a lady must reveal nothing. He held up her dress, it was completely ruined. The seam at the sleeve had ripped and the hem was torn. Not to mention the various patches that covered the pathetic dress.
Erik quickly decided that this dress would not do for Lisette. He would surprise her with a new one. So he quickly whisked away down his secret passageway (the shorter one from taking the boat) and he made his way up to the opera room. Backstage was left entirely intact. No one had taken anything that did not personally belong to them and the managers did not take the time to see to it that everything was auctioned or taken.
Erik threw open the costume closets' doors and began rummaging through the old dresses. There were so many to choose from and all would look perfect on Lisette but he wanted to find the perfect one, the dress that would make Lisette feel as beautiful as a queen. After quite some time he found a brick red colored gown with capped sleeves adorned with black beading. Erik remembered the last time it was worn, when Carlotta played Carmen. He shuddered as he remembered Carlotta's strained voice.
Now that he had found the dress that suited Lisette he went back to his lair and the long awaited return of Lisette. Erik wanted to compose badly but when he put the quill to his hand he froze. He was absolutely stuck but his fingers burned, urging him to write. Erik was frustrated, more so then he had ever been before.
Erik had never felt so strongly about someone in his life, even Christine. Sure, he was infatuated with her but at times he could not stand her, the way she take off his mask. Lisette never did such a thing and he prayed she would never do so.
Erik got up and made his way to where Lisette lay sleeping. HE stood over her, gazing. She was under so many heavy blankets that when she went to wriggle it barely came out as a flinch. She made small noises; somewhat showing pain, which made his heart break. How could he feel so much compassion, so much hurt for someone he just met? This was not like him. He was known as the heartless killer and at times he was.
He contemplated everything in his mind, trying to find a stitch of reality of why he felt this way about her but he could find nothing. He quickly lost hope of finding his answer and so he pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat, holding Lisette's tiny hand, which felt like fire. And so all through the night (or day?) he sat there, patiently waiting for his beloved to wake from her feverish sleep.
Merci! I must go, review sil vous plait!
Your Faithful Servant,
L.V.