There was an eerie feeling in the air as we all awaited the arrival of spring, which never seemed to come. Some days the air would be warm, the sun shining in all its glory and birds singing their merry tunes. Then some days the clouds would roll in, your breath freezing in mid-air as frost killed what little foliage began to bud out. It seemed that everyone in Paris was sick in one way or another. Fevers were running higher and higher, coughing was now its own language, more and more of the opera house shivered with chills and aches, all of this forcing the twits to close the opera house for a full month. One of the few advantages to living in isolation is not catching whatever aliment the surface was spreading. Each day I can hear the coughing and groaning through the walls; soft, sad groans of pain and sickness until I can stand it no longer. I decide to help Belle, who surprisingly seems to be immune to whatever plague has struck Paris. We take over the kitchen, scalding every tea pot and cup as we try our best to keep the plague at bay. Like the rest of the opera house, her brothers also fell sick; strep throat.
"I can't find any mint leaves." I call out, throwing open cabinet doors. I hear the clicking of her shoes quicken as she come bearing a teapot on a tray.
"That's because they are right here mon amour." She hands me the pouch of strong mint from the pocket in her dress, her eyes locked with mine. She sets the tray on the counter, her hand reaching for my forehead.
"What are you doing mon cher?" the back of her hand is cool to the touch, almost soothing to my skin.
"Erik you are a little too warm, even for being here in the kitchen…" I shake my head and roll my eyes. I kiss her hand softly.
"Mon ange you worry too much. I am very much alright." Her face may have relaxed at my words, but her eyes told a different story. I let out a sigh, I am going to have to prove to her I am alright. "If it pleases you, I will go home and lie down for the day. Then you shall she I am quite alright." The worry in her eyes slowly faded, but never truly vanished. Her smile, however, proved my point well.
"Don't you worry, I will not be much longer up here and then you and I can finally have some time together, just the two of us…" her hands wrapped around my waist, resting just above my belt. I slid my arms under her cloak and pulled her to me, resting one hand perfectly between her shoulder blades as the other pulled my ribbon from her hair. All I could do was drink in the beauty before me, and the best part was that she was all mine, and I was all hers.
"It always seems like every time we try and be alone, something comes up…" Her lips began to curl into that devilish smile that I can't quite seem to resist; not that I really minded. I pushed her back to me, letting my lips land on hers softly as she pressed me into the counter top. How I could kiss you forever… hold you until the end of time… have you for mine for all eternity… She indulged me long enough to get me riled, then slowly pulled away.
"I need to go mon amoureax…. I promise more for this evening…" And I promise more for you as well… I kiss her one last time before leaving the kitchen. I wait long enough for her to leave before dashing to my home below. Tonight I will do it… tonight is the night I make her my betrothed… I grab my bag of money, my full mask, and take the land route to the opening on the side of the opera house. The air is cold and harsh, burning at my cheeks. I was expecting weather more suited to my mood. Though I am wearing my gloves and coat, the winter like air seems to seep through the fabric and freeze my bones. The jeweler was not too far from the opera house, just a few blocks or so. I push through the door, the sound of the bell instantly rendering a 'Just a moment!' cry from the back of the store. The middle aged man steps out, a beautiful necklace in his hand. He sets it on the glass case and wipes his hands with a pristine rag, his gaze rising to meet mine.
"Well this is a surprise! Monsieur Destler, I didn't expect to see you until next week!" He extends his hand out to mine, which I gladly shake.
"Me neither Monsieur Chapman! But tonight is the night! I can't stand the wait anymore." The man's brown eyes shine at the mention of my proposal to Belle.
"With a man as handsome and wealthy as you, how could this girl resist!" I couldn't help but laugh; he sees a handsome man with dark hair and blue eyes and an endless pocketbook. The full mask was by far the best thing I ever did invest my time into beside my music. He quickly ducks behind the thick curtain, his barking cough ringing through the quiet air.
"I must say monsieur; this girl must truly be something to behold! A ring as grand as this is no laughing matter." He comes through the curtain, the black velvet box in his hand. I open the box to see just what I had designed. A brilliant silver band with a diamond sitting perfectly in the center while small vines and leaves gracefully branched away from the diamond. "It took me days upon weeks to get your design etched onto the band! And then adding the petals to make it look like a rose?! Only a genius like yourself monsieur could design such a thing." I give a small laugh at this groaning as I toss him the pouch.
"And you are the only jeweler in Paris who took the challenge, and did I not say I would reward you handsomely?" He was too busy counting the hundreds of Francs in the pouch, probably more money he had seen in a year.
"I am sorry; did you need anything else Monsieur Destler?" I shake my head, leaving the man to his money as I duck out the door and into the cold. I keep a tight grip on the box through the cold wind, my other hand hardly working as I try and open the door to the opera house. The land route back to my home whistles with the wind outside as it finds cracks and crevasses to echo in but I don't really care. Tonight I will make Belle my betrothed, I can hardly stand it! Music begins to flood my head as I near my home, forcing me to my piano and making me play. The melody is soft, sweet, just like my angel… never have I ever written a happier tune. I continue to hum along to my playing, awaiting Belle's return when my throat begins to burn like fire. I try to push past it but my lungs begin to convulse, coughing deep like a dog's bark. No matter how much I tried to stop, the coughing continued, harder and deeper until I could hardly breathe. A small hand comes to my back as I lean on its owner.
"Oh mon amour, not you too…" I look up to see my angel, her hand cooling my fiery forehead as she led me to bed. As she eases me back, I am forced to roll away, my lungs demanding to cough up the flam they hold. I feel a soft pat on my back breaking up the gunk and allowing me to breathe a little better. I roll back to her, her warm eyes saddened by my pitiful state as she wipes my mouth like a child. After a cup of strong tea, she leaves me to rest; my head has never throbbed more or my core hurt so much from coughing. I have killed for entertainment; built a palace with my own hands, and traveled the world but nothing hurt more than being sick and pitiful before my beloved. And you were supposed to propose to her tonight! I drift off to sleep and dream of what could have been happening tonight.

"Belle my love, I have something for you!" I can hear the soft click of her boots crossing the bridge into my home. I light the last candle in my bedroom and quickly dash into the main area. I sit at the piano, trying to keep my composure. Being a murder for hire never made me this nervous or sick at my stomach in all my days! She soon comes around the corner, finally wearing the new dress I got her. The dress was the color of the forest with the sleeves stopping just above her elbow, extra fabric hanging loosely from the dress.
"What is it mon amour? You have already gotten me so much." Her sarcasm her best defense against me. I gripped the box in my coat pocket as my hands began to sweat. She comes to my side on the piano bench, her velvet lips almost feel real against my cheek.

"Erik my love, I need you to sit up…" Her voice pulls me from my dream long enough to swallow the bitter tea. Something is different about it; she has added honey along with another liquid. It wasn't very viscous, but it coated my throat well enough to ease my cough. I soon drift back to sleep.

"I am glad you are finally getting a chance to wear a dress. It pains me to see you in pants. It's not very lady like." She lightly hits my arm, rolling her eyes and scoffing.
"I can't exactly wear a dress around the props or the men!" I kiss her hand softly. This is it, the moment of truth. It's now or never. "Erik, are you alright?" My eyes dart up to her.

I again am woken up by my love, another cup of tea in her hands. This time however, she pulls it away long enough to add the contents of a small bottle before handing me the cup. She kisses my forehead and lays me back in bed and says something about her brothers.

"Belle… you know I love you more than life itself… the first time I saw you, dancing in the square outside the opera house your beauty bewitched me. I thought you were a stupid ballet rat, a simpleton with nothing more than her beauty to get her anywhere in life. But now I know you are so much more… a bright, intelligent, crafty, clever girl with a heart as big as Paris and twice as elegant." Her eyes are wide, tears beginning to form. At this point I am fairly certain she knows what is going on. I drop to one knee next to the bench, pulling the box from my pocket as I take her left hand in mine. Tears are now falling from both sets of eyes. "Make me the happiest man in the world and become Madame Erik Destler?" No matter how hard she tries, her smile continues to grow along with her tears.
"Yes…" her voice choked out by her tears of joy "A thousand times yes I will marry you…" she slowly beings to fade from my view…
"Belle… no…" my eyes flutter open. I am back among the living, for the most part. My lungs no longer wish to kill me with every breath and my throat isn't burning like the fires of hell. My heart urged me to my piano, wishing to play the piece I wrote the night we met. I slowly marched myself to the piano and began to play a slow version of Belle's song, changing several things and turning the once fiery and demanding song into a beautifully dark lullaby.
"Look who is feeling better?" I turn to see my love leaning against the wall. She looked different, her hair had lost its luster and was a ragged and tangles mess. How I have missed seeing her. I push myself from the bench and make my way to her. My head begins to spin like a child's top as I fall to the ground. So much for feeling better. Her hand pulls my arm around her. "I am glad you are awake, but it's too soon for you to be out of bed…" Though I am sick of being in bed, feeling her pull the sheets to my chest makes me want to stay in bed forever. I put a gentle hand to her chin, lifting her eyes to meet mine. Dear Lord above… this can't be my Belle…
"My God Belle… You are a ghost…have you even slept…?" she ignores my question and rises to retrieve the teapot and cup. I sigh and sit up and take the tea, its bitter taste just as horrible as I remembered. I catch her arm and demand answers; my only answer is the shrug of her shoulders. Belle don't do this to me! You are becoming more and more stubborn and insufferable. I throw the covers aside and swing my legs to the side of the bed to help her.
"You can hardly stand; stay in bed and I will get whatever you need." I grab her arm and pulled her back to the bedside.
"I need you to lay here next to me and rest. You are exhausted! And where did you get this medicine?" her only reply was saying she needed to see her brothers and kissing my cheek before bolting out the door. All I can to is shake my head and roll my eyes. She is going to kill herself! Even the Phantom of the Opera knows when to rest… glancing around the room, the thought of the ring bursts into my mind. When she returns I will propose! I get up and walk to my coat. My room may be large, but by the time I returned to the bedside, I was huffing like a workhorse. I feel my body crumble under my own weight, the nightstand doing its best not to break.
"I told you to stay in bed." I see the kettle is calling the pot black…" she pulled me back to the bed, threatening to tie me to it if I moved again. I would rather tie you up instead… her face one again meets mine; even more ghostly than before. I have never seen skin so white and eyes so dark; I could almost see my own reflection after Christine left me for that blasted fop.
"What has happened to mon ange…? You are so weak and frail…"
"Conner… he's…" she bit her and fell onto the bed, tears flowing like a river; a river of pain. No, not the boy… I pulled her into my chest and held her tight to me. How I wished I could whisk away her pain and suffering and hear her contagious laughter and quick wit. The only thing I can do is kiss the top of her head, softly rocking her in my arms as she cries. "Lukas needs me…he just woke up!" She tries to pull away, her hand grabbing her head. "The room…it's spinning…" I pull off her cloak and throw it aside, letting her crawl back into bed with me and my arms soothing away her pain. I tried to sing her to sleep but my throat made it painful to do so. I settled for playing with her messy hair and softly kissing her temple. I take the ring from its box and slide it gently on her left hand. It looks beautiful on her hand, just how I envisioned it.
"I love you my sweet…so very much…" I kiss her temple one last time before succumbing to sleep's silent grip.