Phantom. Closet. Whipped cream. Chocolate sauce. Engagement ring. And maybe some blood pressure medicine, but nothing else.
XxXxXxXxXx
"Do re mi fa-"
"Cat?"
It had been the third attempt at teaching the young girl her scales, the third attempt.
Did she ever learn? EVER?
"Do re mi fa-"
He kept trying, over and over, relentlessly pounding away at her pitiful brain in an attempt to teach her what to do. It was a hopeless cause; she was totally incapable of learning.
"Squirrel?"
The anger began to bubble, a slow seethe at first that became a raging inferno which all came out through a veritably noticeable eye twitch and a flare of his terrible blood pressure. He didn't need a doctor to know that this child sent him easily over the edge.
"Please, precious little Daae!" he threw his hands up in exasperation, leaning back in the seat at the organ to look at the miniature brunette, "I implore you, my dear, do re mi fa-"
The air thickened and she went totally silent, her eyebrows furrowing together in a vain attempt to set the mental gears in motion. The sounds of scraping cogs resounded in his labyrinth-esque mind.
He swerved his lithe body around in the seat and expectantly leaned forward, eyes narrowing in anticipation and lips parted to form the answer to his question, yet no sound coming out in order to allow her thought. Her eyes had gained a distant twinkle to the coffee brown hue, emptily gazing ahead at his half covered face.
"Little Daae? Little Daae? Christine!"
She suddenly shook her head wildly, the brunette ringlets bouncing about her shoulders as she blinked hard; once, twice, three times. A vacant smile crossed her lips.
"Yes, mon ange?"
"Do re mi fa-"
He wouldn't let up; she would at least learn the next word.
She slipped back into the thought coma, staring at completely nothing yet the façade of reflection a canvas across her childish features. He heaved a great sigh and massaged his temples, feeling that good ole reliable temper begin to flare up again.
'I'm getting too old for this sort of aggravation.'
"LA!" she suddenly exclaimed, beaming proudly and finger in the air. He heaved a great sigh and hung his head, letting his hands drop over his knees and wrists go limp, body wilted in exasperation. She was trying...well; she was working her method of trying.
"Very good, Christine," he gave a half hearted smile and rose to his feet, giving her a kiss atop the head. He sauntered into the swan bed and dropped in, a ball of black material. The little Daae sat and vacantly smiled ever the larger, blushing gently.
And now it was time for blood pressure release. She was just distant enough now, anyway.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
It was a bellow, a resounding gong across the dank caverns that never woke Christine from her mental slumber, echoing through the walls and piercing to, he was sure, the confines of the opera house.
"STUUUUUUUUUPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID LIIIIIIIITTTTTTTLLLLLLLEEEEEEE BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!"
The temper tantrum continued when he grabbed an elegant throw pillow and began to rip it apart with tooth and nail and pure, brute force. Twitching madly and tearing away at pieces of fluff and stuffing with only his teeth, he screamed his frustrations.
"SHE'S LIKE A SPONGE, SHE RETAINS ALL AND THEN SHE JUST FORGETS IT!"
RIIIIIIIIIP.
Somewhere across the fair city of Paris a wine glass shattered and a therapist marked down his next source of income. An anger management ward contemplated its' soon-to-be new patient.
Rip RIP RIP!
"DAAAAAMN IIIIIIT! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
RRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!
His blood pressure by this point was beyond the roof, as visible in the pulsating vein throbbing in his neck. It beat with the tension bottling in his chest and he tore the pillow in half, yelling and on the brink of tears. Oh sweet frustration, thou art a cruel adversary.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
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What the hell am I on?
