Chapter 13 Smiley Faces

Erik was seated at his organ, carefully retuning the lower notes, when Adriana yawned her way out of her new bedroom, her dressing gown casually thrown on over her torn nightgown, tugging habitually on a stray lock of dead straight hair.

"Morning" she yawned, coming to lean on his shoulders, resting her head on top of his, Erik stiffened.

"I would prefer, mademoiselle, if you would keep a proper distance while in my presence." He said politely, forcedly. Instead, the girl reached her arms around him and placed her hands beside Erik's.

"I have a name Erik," she breathed against his neck, about to fall asleep, or faint (please, bear in mind, being this close to the Phantom will do things to the most determined of phangirl's minds.) "And considering the fact I permit very few people to use or get away with calling me by it, please use it." Her warm breath on his neck was beginning to tickle, Erik found the experience both pleasant and irritating at the same time,

"Adriana," he said, she sighed happily, "I would prefer it if you would keep a proper distance while in my presence."

Adriana groaned, "Fine," she paused a moment to enjoy the last few moments of contact, "Hmm, before I forget, Erik are my hands supposed to be yellow?"

"What?" (He sounds shocked) she thought, grinning, she reached her hands out and turned up her palms. Whatever it was Erik had dosed her with, it had turned the skin of her hands a bright yellow. Unseen below her, Erik raised an eyebrow, "Ah, yes," he purred, "I had forgotten about that. It will fade soon."

"Oh good," Adriana replied, "Because as flattering as it was to have you care for me, the thought of having Smiley Face hands for the rest of my life is a little creepy."

"What on earth is a smiley face?" Erik asked in exasperation.

"Cute, bland little yellow and black faces that smile at you from bags, T-shirts, badges, screens, and msn chat rooms. It's the only time I can tolerate yellow."

"You don't like yellow?"

"I don't, not all that fond of gold either, when you get right down to it. Silver is better."

"Why not? I thought all women loved gold?"

"Erik, you live five floors underground with a lake to separate you from any and all human contact, what the hell would you know about women? Let alone me. Besides, it's tacky."

"Tacky?" Adriana could hear him rolling his eyes.

"Yes, tacky. Glitzy, show offish, glamorous, foolish, and attention seeking," she paused, "In other words, the Carlotta version of jewellery."

"You have now successfully ruined any future appreciation of any excess adornments in my eyes forever." Erik remarked acidly, Adriana shrugged,

"I was trying hard enough. You know, despite the horror she makes of any music whatsoever, I find it quite impressive that she can turn a one letter word into a three syllable screech."

"You are both an extraordinarily strange and irritating young woman. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Every day, I feel strange if I am not commended on my wacky and brilliant schemes. Nor my addiction of anything dark, dramatic, or seductively frightening. My friend Emma and I even made up a song about it."

"Do I want to know?"

"More than likely, no. You kind of have to know both of us, and the origins of the song in the first place."

"I see, and Adriana?"

"Yes?"

"A favour my dear,"

"Anything...well, almost anything. I won't sing soprano."

"Agreed, now please, get off me."

A/N: I do actually talk like that.

Erik: It is true, dear readers, she refused to keep quiet at work today, holding an imaginary conversation in her head with me while partaking in a strange occupation known as stocktaking.

Authoress: shoves pancake into Erik's mouth to shut him up. I was not! I was having a deep and meaningful discussion with the Yoda on the Rice Crispies box while counting Nutrigrain boxes about the usefulness of a flashing lightsabre spoon.

Erik: Spitting out pancake. That was Darth Vader, my dear, Yoda was on the Cocoa Pops.

Authoress: Oh yeah, by the by, Darth is a member of the DBCA idol group too. Go the Dramatic Black Cloak!

Erik: That reminds me, where did my cloak go?

Authoress: Starts whistling, looking guilty. I have no idea...

If you want to know (and you probably don't) here is Emma and mine's song (to the tune of, Have I told you lately that I love you?). Erik also decided to add some constructive criticism, which is in bold.

Emma: Have I told you lately, that I hate you? (I told you just the other day)

Authoress: Have I told you I don't listen, to half of what you say? (I don't listen to any of it actually)

Emma: You fill my heart with sadness (Too right)

Authoress: You take away my gladness (Agreed)

All: Give me troubles, that's what you do. (Please kill me now, before I am forced to suffer any longer)