Love and Music

Marie giggled. Peter let his lips graze the edge of her ear, then he whispered, "I love you." She turned her head and looked at him. They stared intently into each other's eyes. "I love you," Marie murmured back.

They had become more intimate over the last few months. Holding hands in public, kissing more, whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears… the list went on. Marie felt that it had to do with Erik's commitment to Amelia. He inspired them to a point where they believed that if Erik would do such drastic things for the girl he loved, then they should want to do more for each other. And, having that mindset, Marie and Peter did do more for each other as a couple. Oddly enough, they also wanted to.

They went on actual dates. Peter had taken her to a lovely restaurant and they took a walk in the park afterwards. Sitting on a bench with him outside at nine o'clock in the evening made her realize that something had changed between them: something for the better. They discussed events outside of the Opera Populaire. The building where they both lived and worked had seemed to be the only item of conversation in their relationship. But now, the couple talked of what they wanted to do with their lives. Marie had never known that Peter wanted to be in the law enforcement, and some day he hoped to be chief of police. It made her proud to know that he wanted to help his city. Peter already knew that she wanted to eventually be the ballet mistress at the opera house.

The couple went to an opera which Marie wasn't in and Peter didn't need to help with. He was a stagehand and usually worked with the backdrops. They had held hands throughout the opera. Marie had whispered a few comments about the music to Peter and he had listened attentively. Once the opera was finished, they went to the after party.

They drank in good spirits with some dancers and stagehands. Marie found that she enjoyed Peter's friends' company as much as her own friends. Laughter filled the hall along with the smell of liquor and smoke. Usually, she didn't like that type of atmosphere, but that night it failed to be a nuisance to her. Marie just enjoyed herself and the lighthearted conversations with her new friends.

It was late. She kept on nodding off while trying to listen to someone. Marie excused herself and Peter from the group.

"I don't think I can stay awake for another five minutes. I'm going to go to bed." Peter looked at her, a little disappointed, but he understood.

"I had a wonderful time," Marie added, seeing his discontent, "I always do when I'm with you." He smiled at her exhausted, yet cheerful face.

Peter and Marie walked back to her dormitory, hand in hand. They stopped outside of the door and he just looked at her. Peter's hand touched her cheek, and then it gently lead her face towards his. Their lips connected in a chaste kiss; it almost felt like the first time all over again. Marie opened her eyes and looked up at Peter. She knew then and there that she truly loved him and would be happy to spend the rest of her life with him

"And now I know. I really know."

Marie just relived the scenario from the night before to Caitlin and Amelia. The two younger girls sighed in admiration. It was so wonderful to know exactly when you have fallen in love. Amelia smiled; she hoped that she could have a beautiful relationship like that. But a thought entered her mind. As a matter of fact, this thought had waltzed in and out of her head a lot for the past week: Erik. Just… Erik.

At their last lesson, he had – yet again – helped her to improve so much. His teaching ability was just amazing. There was a point during her solo when Erik put his hand on her elbow, gently pushing it upwards. All he had done was fix her posture, but his touch had made her feel strange.

The lesson had been going quite well. Amelia got through her scales without too much help from Erik, but he did give her a few pointers. Now they moved on to her solo piece. Erik decided it would help her technique and sight-reading skills to read through a solo, practice it, master it and move on to another. Amelia had been playing this piece for a few weeks and she was getting a bit lazy.

Erik saw her posture slowly droop, as if she was bored of playing. He put his hand on her left elbow and slowly lifted it up. His hand lingered there a little longer than it should have. She looked over at him, still playing. Erik's hand quickly left her elbow. Amelia concentrated back on the music. She stumbled a bit over the next few measures, partially because she tended to skip that section, and because she was still thinking about the way Erik's hand had felt…

"Amelia, have you practiced this part?" he asked.

She bit her lip. "Well…not as much as the rest."

"It shows." He hated doing this to her, but if she was going to make it in the Populaire's orchestra, he was going to be blunt with her.

What was going on? She hated to admit it – she almost felt embarrassed about it – but Amelia felt something towards him. He was just so nice to her, perhaps a bit skittish at times, but when he smiled at her… Amelia shook her head. A sixteen-year-old shouldn't have a foolish crush on her teacher! But was it a crush? Did she really even like him?

"Amelia?" She snapped out of her reverie and saw that Caitlin and Marie were both staring at her.

"What?" Brows raised, Amelia wondered if she had missed something important.

Caitlin looked at her friend, wondering what exactly was occupying her mind.

"Nothing," she answered.

As Amelia and Caitlin walked back to their dormitory for the night, they said nothing for a while. Caitlin was thinking furiously about her friend. Amelia had been quite – for lack of a better word – dazed the past week or so. She spaced out in the middle of conversations as if she were either thinking incredibly hard about something else, or not thinking at all. But Caitlin knew better. She had seen that look on Amelia's face before. A minute, thoughtful smile sat on her face, eyes glazed over: she was thinking about Erik.

It had been too long since she'd seen that face. Caitlin watched her friend as they walked down the silent corridor. Amelia sensed this and looked over at her. A smirk was painted on Caitlin's lips. Her friend raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Amelia looked at her, trying to appear confused about who she was speaking of, yet embarrassed because they both knew exactly who.

And it's about time, too.

Erik put his hand on his chin thoughtfully. He stared at the music in front of him. Something was missing…

Ever since he wrote the song explaining how he felt about Amelia, Erik had been writing other songs. Not all of the others were as emotional as the first, and none of them had lyrics. This song was probably going to be the next best once it was finished, but it needed something. Erik chewed on the side of his forefinger. Gnawing at his appendages was becoming a bad habit. He caught himself and sat on his hand.

But he still glared at the hand-written music. It was mediocre. Too plain; too bland. All of the other songs had something particular about them. They had some type of interesting instrument solo, or an emotional section. Erik realized something: all of his songs were the same. This one needed to stand out and be different, like the first song. He needed a second opinion. But who was good enough for the job? Monsieur Reyer was too busy to help, and honestly, Erik didn't think that Charles was the composer type. Peter was good company, but he knew very little about music. Amelia, his mind hissed at him.

Erik chewed at the callous on his finger again. But why would Amelia help him? She didn't owe him anything, why would she want to help him? Did you ever think that if you just asked her, she would be happy to oblige? No, there was no reason in the world that she would simply oblige a request from him. He saw how frustrated she got when he reprimanded her for not practicing. She probably wouldn't do anything for him outside of their lessons. Even if he – Stop. Consider what you just thought.

Erik took a breath. Should he ask her to help him as a teacher or as a friend? He knew that she would assist him if he gave it to her as an assignment. But why was he her teacher to begin with? To make her fall in love with him again. So, asking her as a friend could possibly bring them closer. Erik looked down at his raw finger. Why must he make such difficult decisions? He sighed.

The next morning the five friends sat together at breakfast. Peter and Marie talked mostly to each other, but socialized a bit with the others. When Erik reached the middle of his oatmeal, he looked up at Amelia. It had been a while since he ate with her. He figured that smothering her with his presence was not the way to go about it. She stood up.

"Well, I should probably get started," Amelia stated, meaning her job.

As she began to leave, Caitlin gave Erik a look. He knew that she wanted him to go with her. Amelia had most likely confided in Caitlin about the practicing incident. And Caitlin wanted him to talk to her about it. Man, he was good. He looked back down into his breakfast. He shouldn't have to apologize for acting like a teacher. Caitlin kicked him in the shin. Alright, maybe he did. Erik stood and followed Amelia out of the dining hall.

"Amelia, wait." She turned around outside of the doorway. Her expression was unreadable.

"I just wanted to make sure you – you're not mad at me, are you?" She didn't answer at first. She just looked at him, eyes scanning his face.

"Mad at you for what?" she asked, knowingly.

Erik sighed. "For chastising you. I'm sorry. I –"

"I'm not mad."

"But I thought you –" Erik started.

"Sure, I vented a little to Caitlin right after the lesson, but it's not that big of a deal. It's okay. You were just trying to help me." Amelia smiled.

Unconsciously, they both started walking together. Erik felt relieved. They walked to the mail room, and he figured that she wouldn't mind him helping out. The man in charge of the mail gave them all the letters and boxes. Erik noticed a young man a little older than himself sorting some papers. He looked at the pair with slightly jealous eyes. Erik decided to ignore this.

He watched Amelia as she prepared the letters for Monsieur Francois. She had become an expert messenger. Erik copied her and organized the mail in his hands. When they reached the manager's office, Amelia picked up a few envelopes from the box outside of his door and dropped a few letters in.

"Monsieur Reyer is next," she said, looking at him for a moment.

Erik nodded quietly.

He took this silence as time to admire Amelia. Her hair was getting long; it was a little past the middle of her back. Yet it had stayed the same color the last couple months: a soft caramel color. Her dress was an olive tint, which accented the green in her eyes. The dress was quite simple. It stopped mid-calf, had a little bit of lace around the barely drooping neckline, and the sleeves flared faintly above her elbows.

It took Erik a moment to realize that they were standing outside of Monsieur Reyer's office. Amelia knocked three times on the closed door. A few seconds passed, and then Charles appeared in the doorway. He looked slightly hassled.

"Oh, hello Amelia," he said, sounding a bit distracted. She returned the greeting and placed the small stack of envelopes on his desk. As he retrieved some of his messages, Charles looked back up.

"Erik," he stated simply.

"Yes," Erik replied. Charles was obviously confused as to why he was there, but shook his head and continued gathering papers nonetheless.

Once Amelia had collected all of Monsieur Reyer's letters, she and Erik left his rather chaotic office. He had felt stressed just looking at the place. Amelia looked through a few envelopes and made a noise of recognition. Erik looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"There's one in here for you," she said, handing him an envelope. Erik pocketed the letter, deciding that he would read it later. They finished her route within an hour, talking a little between each stop. The entire time, he was thinking about how he was going to ask her to help him with his music. Now they were sitting on a bench with a view out a window. Amelia thought that he had seemed distracted, and she said so. Erik gazed out of the window before saying anything.

"I wanted to… ask you something," he said, still thinking.

Amelia looked over at him. "Yes?"

"Well, I've been working on…composing. I wanted to broaden my musical skills by learning how each instrument can mesh with an entire orchestra." Well, that's partially it… "And now I've learned my musical skills aren't that incredible. I have written a few songs, but none of them are really impressive. There is one song that has so much potential, but I can't seem to bring that out. I need a second opinion, another ear, something that can make this song spectacular."

Amelia seemed to be absorbing all he had just said. Her knuckles slowly tucked under her chin thoughtfully. "You want me to help you compose a song?" She seemed to be amazed that he would ask her.

"I'd be honored if you would assist me."

She looked at him and bit the inside of her cheek. "Is this for lessons or…?" She didn't really know what to call it.

"Extracurricular."

"I suppose it would be rather enjoyable to make my own music for once." Erik's heart leapt at her realization. "When and where do want to do this composing?"

He hadn't thought this far; he had allowed himself to believe that she would say no. When Erik looked at a loss for words, Amelia smiled.

"How about tomorrow after lunch in a practice room?"

Erik nodded, "Yes that would be perfect."

She smiled again and stood. He stood up as well, but turned to go in the opposite direction. For a fleeting moment, Erik saw Amelia's eyes flicker over his mask. Then she looked into his eyes and turned around to walk down the corridor. That moment had been the first in a very long time. He felt like a fool for almost forgetting about what lied behind the mask. Now that no one acknowledged it, he had stopped worrying about it.

But Amelia had acknowledged the mask. She noticed

Caitlin found herself grinding her teeth as she left orchestra rehearsal that day. She tried breathing slowly, counting to ten, and even thinking happy thoughts. Nothing could make these vicious thoughts melt away. She just wanted to strangle him! She obviously wasn't hiding her anger very well because a few people looked at her worriedly as she passed. One of them was Amelia.

"Would you murder me if I asked you what was wrong?"

Caitlin sighed heavily. "No. But there is someone who I would very much enjoy to murder." Amelia raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"It's Thomas. He's a stuck up trumpet player."

"And you wish to kill him."

"Exactly."

"Elaborate."

"He's always making rude comments, critiquing me unnecessarily, and he is just plain condescending," Caitlin finished with a huff.

They walked on for a little in silence. Amelia couldn't recall anyone by the name Thomas. Caitlin explained his appearance.

"He's rather tall. His hair is a dark caramel color; a little darker than yours. And he has blue eyes." He was one year Caitlin's senior: nineteen. The way she talked about him made Amelia think that she was almost fond of him. But she chose not to voice that opinion. She just let Caitlin rant her heart out all the way to dinner.

When her friend finally couldn't think of anything else to say about Thomas, they were almost finished with their food. Amelia looked around the dining hall. She saw Erik sitting with Peter and a few other stagehands a few tables over. She'd been dying to tell Caitlin and Marie about her composing date with Erik. Amelia seized the moment when Caitlin wasn't speaking to tell them. She explained what Erik was up to and how he asked her to help him. Her friends seemed quite interested.

"Asking you to help shows that he has confidence in you," Caitlin said, completely immersed in this 'composing date'. "Maybe this means that you'll be able to join the orchestra soon!"

"I doubt it. I've still got a lot of learning to do," Amelia said. She looked back over at Erik's table. He was sitting there listening to the other young men talk. He seemed perfectly content to listen and not speak. After a few moments, he caught her staring at him. They just looked at each other for a while; then Amelia smiled awkwardly and averted her gaze back to her empty plate.

The next day, Amelia felt strangely nervous. She was excited for this opportunity, but she found her heart beating rather fast. Multiple times she glanced over to where Erik was sitting. The first few times Amelia looked in his direction, Caitlin tried to see what she kept staring at. But by the end of lunch, she would just smile to herself.

Amelia made her way towards the main entrance and passed Erik in the process.

"Are you ready?" he asked, looking up at her.

She nodded. "Should I get my violin?"

"That's a good idea," Erik replied. "I'll meet you in the large practice room."

Erik was setting a few things up when Amelia came in the practice room. She looked around the considerably large room; she was surprised that Erik had managed to get it for them. It was usually occupied by singing ensembles or groups of orchestra members.

"How did you manage to get it?" Amelia asked, quite astonished.

"I have my connections," Erik said, smiling slightly.

Amelia smiled, rolling her eyes amicably. "So let's see this soon-to-be piece of art."

Erik handed her a small stack of music. She read it, trying to imagine how it would sound in her head, but she failed miserably.

"Could you play it for me? I just can't quite get the feel of it."

Erik nodded and began playing it on the piano. Amelia sat in a chair next to the piano and watched. As he played, she could imagine other parts of the orchestra participating with him. It started out slow, but she could tell that it was a happy song. Amelia closed her eyes while she listened. She could picture Marie and other ballerinas dancing blithely to this song; although it would be a very intricate ballet, Marie would be most capable of dancing it.

Amelia's eyes opened and wandered along Erik's hands. She watched his long, graceful fingers adroitly press each key. Then she looked at his arms. They were thin, but they looked stronger when he played the piano; the way he played made everything about him seem strong. Her eyes gazed at his face. The unmasked side was all she could see. She felt her stomach lurch and her heart speed up when she realized how handsome he was. His eyes slid shut as the piece got a little slower. This music was intoxicating. As he pressed the last few notes of the song, Amelia tried to snap out of her reverie.

He looked over at her. She was staring at the piano, eyes transfixed. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something. Amelia brought her hand to her cheek and closed her mouth, and then opened it again.

"I really can't describe how… amazing that was."

Erik smiled and shook his head modestly.

"No! Really, you have an incredible talent," Amelia told him truthfully.

He looked back at her. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. She looked radiant.

"Thank you. But I still feel like something is missing."

Amelia took the music from the piano. She studied it for a while. Her eyes went back and forth, reading the music. Then she set the music back on the piano and picked up her violin and played a small variation of what Erik had written. She added a few grace notes and extra notes between the melody; it sounded much more beautiful. Erik stared at her, amazed at what she had just played. Amelia, not noticing, took the music from the piano and added those notes above the staff as a suggestion. When she looked up to see Erik gaping at her, she jumped.

"What?" she asked, rather startled.

"How did you know exactly what the music needed?"

Amelia shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I guess the notes just popped into my head, so I tried them out and they sounded…better?"

You are amazing. Simply amazing.

The couple worked for quite some time editing and revising the music. They would try a few variations out either on the piano or her violin and add or alter notes. Neither had felt more content to make music with the other. Erik couldn't believe the talent that was pouring out of Amelia. When something didn't sound quite right to him, she had already found an alternate way to play it – a better way. Amelia had never felt so exhilarated. She felt so professional composing music like this. And she couldn't understand how Erik could do this on his own. He seemed to appreciate her help very much. She couldn't have been happier to oblige his request.

The sound of Amelia's stomach growling forced them to come to a stop. Erik glanced at the clock on the wall behind them. It was five o'clock: dinner time.

"Sorry this took so long. I guess I lost track of time."

Amelia shook her head. "That's fine, I really enjoyed helping you." She smiled.

They gathered their own things and stood in silence for a moment or two.

"Same time tomorrow?" Erik asked hopefully.

Amelia smiled a genuinely happy smile. "I would like that."

Amelia had left an hour ago, yet Erik still stayed in the large practice room. He had booked it for the rest of the day, unsure of how long they would take, but knowing that he would want to stay afterwards. After she left, Erik thought about the song he began writing for her. He sure wouldn't mind her help on it, but he didn't want to show it to her. Of course he wouldn't tell her that he wrote it about her, but he didn't want to pour out his heart and soul in front of her. Well, not just yet, anyway.

He played the song a few times through. It was memorized now that he played it almost every day. Slowly he hummed the lyrics along with the melody. He had all of the lyrics now, and they were very moving. Erik felt his eyes burn and his chest tighten. Why did this song do this to him every time he played it? Whenever he got to a certain point, it made him choke up.

Erik sighed and gathered his music. He wasn't hungry, and they weren't serving supper any more. With a weary stride, he made his way towards his home. As he walked through the endless corridors, he passed the dormitory wing. Erik looked down one hall and saw Amelia sitting on the floor outside of a room, reading. He knew that she was looking over their music that he copied down verbatim. His eyes lingered over her profile. He was surprised when he realized that her beauty still took his breath away.

Eventually, Erik had to leave Amelia alone. Once he reached his home, he heaved a sigh and fell onto his bed. The candlelight flickered oddly over his hanging jacket. Something caught his eye. Erik stood and looked into the pocket of the jacket. Inside was the letter that Monsieur Reyer had given him yesterday. He silently hoped that it wasn't an urgent message…

The note read:

Erik –

I would very much appreciate it if you would accompany me to Giselle's flute lessons. I think that it would immensely help your musical skills to observe. Her next lesson is this Thursday at six o'clock.

Sincerely,

Monsieur Charles Reyer

Things are starting to get juicy!! Please review. I love to have your feedback!

Oh yes - the song that Erik and Amelia are writing is a kind of different arrangement of Canon in D. When I first heard this arrangement, I knew it had to be in this story! (And we'll just pretend that Pachelbel didn't write it first...)