5

Disclaimer: I don't own POTO, duh! But I do own any OC's I do not own Meg or Erik. Sadly..

Erik liked having Meg visit. She was interesting; and seemed to have an opinion on everything. She told him of what the ballet girls were gossiping over; and how Firmin and Andre were working their fingers to the bone to fix the opera populaire completely.

"What is left undone?" Erik asked. Meg tried to remember what her mother had told her.

"I think the chandelier needs to be replaced; which will cost millions." She replied; drinking the tea he had given her. His book rested on the shelves as Meg sat on his desk; and he sat on the chair. The two talked as if they had known each other for years. Although she had not gained enough of his trust for him to show her his face. The face he hated; the face he loathed; the face he wished he did not have.

----

She somehow got him down to sleep; he'd been up all night painting; and composing. He did not remember how; but the little blond angel had gotten him to sleep; and he hadn't heard a peep out of her since. He had not worried that she would take his mask; he had not worried she would peek in the closet; not at least; while he was sleeping. He jolted up; realizing he'd fallen asleep. Nearly jumping out of the bed; he dashed into the main room to see Meg organizing some blank composition books; the ones that were written in; where stacked neatly and put into a drawer; the closet was shut; and Meg was cleaning his house. She had put his ledger in a drawer in his desk; unopened; and cleaned up his figurines of the cast.

"What are you doing?" He asked tiredly. Meg looked at him and smiled.

"Just cleaning up a bit. I hope you don't mind. Your desk looked cluttered; and I couldn't imagine how you could find anything."

"I don't mind." He told her; trying to forge a smile. "It does help keep my score books organized."

"I've always heard that single men have trouble with house cleaning. I suppose it's true."

"In most cases." He told her; trying to completely wake up. "Meg, I don't remember falling asleep; why?"

"Because; you had told me you stayed up all night; keeping busy so your thoughts couldn't come to mind, so, I snuck some whisky into your tea; it knocked you right out."

"You drugged me?" He asked, rather surprised that a blond angel like herself knew such tricks.

"sort of. If you put it like that, it sounds so terrible. I like to think of it as-helping you sleep."

"Why did you not touch my mask?" He asked. He had questions for her; and surely; she had answers.

"I was sure you didn't want me to. But-" She stopped herself. "I wanted to. While cleaning I kept thinking 'Just a quick peek, he'll never know' but I never really did." Erik did not scold her for thinking of it; he had thought of things in the past that he did not do. So he just thanked her for not looking; and looked at her house cleaning. "I was thinking that maybe, I could bring a few roses down here, it would brighten up the place. If you want me to."

"That does sound like a good idea." He told her approvingly. There was something about her he liked; was it her interesting nature? Her way of acting on impulse? Or was it the fact that she was not perfect; that she was not like the other girls he'd known, or seen. The other ballet girls gossiped like crazy;and wore far too much make-up. Christine was a heartless snake; and Meg was the innocent girl in the back. She was just as pretty as Christine; and seemed to understand him better. She tried to make him feel like he was at home; in the only place he was able to live. She had cleaned up for him; cooked for him; and had made a few suggestions on how to make it seem a lot brighter and happier.

"I hope I'm not being a burden with these suggestions."

"You aren't. I never would have thought of some of the things you've thought of." He told her as they drank their tea and talked. He asked if she had slipped anything in it; she laughed and shook her head.

"No." he drank it more willfully after he knew she did not slip alchahol into his drink. He then looked strait into his cup; starring at his own reflection. "A penny for your thoughts." His head shot up at her; her innocent smile was making her face glow.

"It's nothing." He lied. As much as he liked Meg; he still loved Christine. She resented Christine so much that he couldn't bring himself to tell her that he was thinking of Christine.

"Alright then." she told him; knowing the Phantom was stubborn and would not give her a right answer. "I'll go get lunch ready; anything you want inpoticular?" He shook his head.

"I'll eat whatever is made." He told her; finishing his tea. She nodded and walked into the kitchen to begin.

-----

He took out his ledger and began sketching in it again. He let his hand move on it's own. It danced across the page; making shapes and such. When he opened his eyes again; he saw Christine's smile peering back at him. Her face was so beautiful; and he'd drawn it right next to the one he'd drawn of Meg. He felt a tear run down his face. Why hadn't Christine loved him? He'd been so sure she'd choose him; but then Raoul came in. He'd ruined everything. Just the thought of it made Erik cry louder; he'd never been so hurt in his life; she'd chosen Raoul over him; when Erik had been with her when Raoul hadn't. He'd sang her to sleep every night; he had taught her all he knew. He felt a hand on his shoulder; he looked up and saw Meg standing near him; her hands on his back.

"Erik, my god what's wrong?" She looked terribly worried about him. he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and closed his ledger before she could see it.

"Nothing." He told her. "It's nothing to concern yourself with. " he tried to cam himself down. He tried to stop his tears from falling and worrying Meg any further. She slid her arms around his shoulders and held onto him. Her head was close to his; close enough that he could feel her breathing on his left cheek.

"You scared me half to death." She told him softly. "I thought something had happened; or that you were hurt; or-or I just don't know."

"I'm sorry I startled you." He told her; chokes climbing up his throat. "I don't know what caused that." Meg nodded; trying to get him to calm down.

"Lunch is ready. " He nodded and rose to go to the kitchen; Meg walked beside him; and starred at his tear-stained face. "are you sure your OK? If something is bothering you; I want to know. I don't want you to feel like you are all by yourself."

"I surely will." He told her; forging a smile. He took a bite and choked it down; his cries forbade him from eating much. Meg looked at him, worried for a moment, and then told him she was going to finish something in the main room.

------

He'd been looking at his ledger when he started to cry. She opened it and sat at the organ. Reading through he passages. Most of them were from before the fire; so it was explainable why they had Christine in them. She'd gotten to a page with a sketched picture of herself. She at first; was scared. But the picture was so beautifully drawn; that it quickly changed. She saw another person beside her portrait. A portrait of Christine. But Christine's portrait had hearts drawn around it; like a child writing the name of his love in a notebook with hearts around them. She felt a surge of pain run through her; he still loved Christine; no matter what she'd done to him? She closed the ledger and set it back where she found it. Just in time for him to finish eating.

"What were you looking at?"

"Nothing." She lied. She had grown to be able to lie to people easily. "Erik, are you feeling any better?"

"a bit."

"Care to tell me why you were crying so hard?" He looked her strait in the eye; something he'd never done before. She was truly worried about him. He sighed and told her everything; how he was still in love with Christine; and how he felt so betrayed. How he couldn't understand why she chose Raoul over him; how he'd been there for her since her father died. He sang her to sleep every night; and had given her his voice.

Meg began to understand the ledger more clearly. He loved her, but he was still in pain from what had happened. He was stabbed in the back by the only woman he'd ever loved. He had begun to cry again; and Meg let him cry on her. "shhhhh.." she cooed gently. "It's alright." She stroked the small bit of hair that hung off his head; and stayed with him. All night.

----

She was with him the rest of the night. She did not worry about practice, her mother, or anything. She helped him sleep that night; but she did not knock him out with whisky.She helped him sleep the natural way; she stroked his hair; while the music box sang for her.When his breathing stopped being that of someone who had been crying; and had slowed to a sleeping pace, Meg closed her eyes.


cute right?