This is my very last chapter before the cameo! EEEEEEKKKKK! I just have to finish it, so it should be up soon! Sorry, no review replies, I need to write the next chapter. Cheers
"Ah, there you are," Erik sauntered into what had now become Adriana's private domain. She was seated cross legged on the floor in a sleeveless tunic top and what looked like a pair of Turkish pants from The Kings Turban. The seam of a ghostly pink and lavender skirt was held tightly pinched between her fingers as she removed pins from her mouth and secured the hem together. She looked up at him with a mouthful of pins and rolled her eyes as if to say, "Where else would I be?"
Erik looked at her newest creation, a gown of soft lavender grey that he knew to have once been the underskirts of Tosca's second solo gown, was swathed across the mannequin she had appropriated. Misty pink overskirts flowed transparently over the smoky grey to skim the floor in a smooth hem. A dark lavender made up the central panel of the corset, and was laced across the front with gold ribbon. Pale yellow roses were stitched across the shoulders in a smooth curve, which anchored more of the pink floaty stuff what had already been sewed into long angel sleeves that flowed to the ground. Erik lifted one sleeve, admiring the neat gold stitches,
"I thought you said you'd never work in pink," he said conversationally. Adriana removed the last pin from her mouth and carefully set the hem in place.
"I know," she sighed mournfully, stretching her arms up. She snatched them down again when she saw Erik move to jab her in the ribs.
"Well?" he asked as she climbed laboriously up.
"Well what?" she scowled, brushing dirt off her clothes.
"Why are you working in pink?" he asked, dropping the sleeve. Adriana paused,
"I don't know," she answered regretfully. "I was thinking I hadn't seen daylight in a while, and the idea sort of jumped into my head."
"You miss the sun." Erik said quietly as she picked up her pin box.
"Not really," she answered thoughtfully, putting her scissors in her basket, "More the predawn light, the false sunrise you get really early in the morning. Where the world turns into an endless expanse of grey tinged with lavender and pink as the sun wakes." She motioned to the dress, "I guess that's what I'm trying to recreate here." She stumbled back under a huge yawn, "What time is it?" she asked, blinking owlishly.
"A little after one in the morning." Erik told her, offering his arm, she slipped her hand through and picked up her basket.
"One?" she asked stupidly, "I've been here 5 hours?"
"It would seem that way," Erik replied, leading her out the door. She paused at the doorway and took out a large key.
"I don't want anyone barging in on my work," she answered Erik's raised eyebrow. She turned the heavy brass key with a click and pocketed it, snuggling closer to Erik's shadowy form.
"Come, my dear seamstress," Erik offered, "You need sleep."
"I know, otherwise I'll stab myself with a pin." She yawned again as the Phantom led her down the dark passageways.
Adriana fell asleep in the boat as Erik poled them back to his home. Gently he lifted her up and settled gently on her bed.
"Sleep well, my dear," he murmured as he blew out the candles. Adriana muttered something incoherent about "...ice-cream in the middle and Gerry on top..." and burrowed under her blankets. Erik laughed softly in response, and turned away, a plan forming in his mind…
She had the strange sensation of being carried, across and up innumerable turns and passageways. She tried to open her eyes and look around, but a smooth voice murmured in her ear.
"No little one," it said softly, "Sleep…" Adriana didn't want to obey, but she was warm and comfy and felt deliciously safe and in danger at the same time, so she snuggled in a little closer and drifted off again.
Erik paused at the final door that separated them from the rooftop and the magnificent view on Apollo's Lyre. Checking to make sure Adriana was safe and well covered he tapped open the door and exited the Opera House. A few specks of early snow descended and fell on Adriana's upturned face, she flinched away from their cold touch and pressed her nose against Erik's chest, finding the little triangle of open shirt, she breathed in his spicy scent, like a mix between Lynx (believe me Erik is so a Lynx guy, and if your not Aussie, you wont know what I'm on about and I pity you for that, your missing out) and brandy, whatever Christine had reported as the smell of death, she either didn't notice it, or it was just a part of his strange male scent, which she quite enjoyed. (Why do guys smell good?)
Carefully Erik manoeuvred his way up Apollo's Lyre with his precious burden, and set her feet down on the cold granite. Damn, he had forgotten her shoes. Oh well, too late now, the show was about to begin. Holding her around the waist, Erik placed his lips close to Adriana's ear and started to sing softly,
"Sing once again with me,
Our strange duet,
My power over you,
Grows stronger yet…"
Like any good phangirl, Adriana jolted awake at the sound of Erik's angelic, heaven incarnate, pure gold and beauty, darkness and seduction, sexy voice (shall I keep going? Nah, on with the story).
"Wha…? Eep!" she squeaked, nearly falling from the statue, but for Erik's firm grip on her waist.
"I do believe, mademoiselle, that you asked for predawn light." Erik said simply, Adriana gazed across Paris in wonder. The cloudy sky was a swirling grey mist that dropped singular snowflakes to the streets below. Adriana reached out and caught one in one pale hand, then raised her eyes to the colourless buildings of Paris, the night had leeched all colour from the land, and the only hint of light came from the distant horizon, where shimmering pink and mauve haze tinged the far off marble homes and houses of the rich and famous. They stood together in silence, appreciating the beauty of the silent, eternal time of early morning when the entire world felt as if it was theirs and theirs alone.
Erik looked down at Adriana, and noticed the goose bumps on her skin, "Are you cold?" he asked in concern, wishing he had remembered her shoes.
"Not enough to make me want to go inside," she answered. Instead, she plucked at the edge of Erik's cape until she had pulled enough free to huddle inside next to the Phantom. Erik rested his chin on the top of her head, as they stood there, wrapped in their black cocoon, watching as the sun rose and Paris leapt to life.