1A/N: I MADE A HUGE MISTAKE!! Ok, Anne52, my lovely beta, who saved me from making this story horrid, noticed that Mollia is in the 13 or 14 age range making our Phantom seem like a pedophile, and I do not want that. So Mollia is really supposed to be 20, and I apologize for not originally writing it like that...
Also, because I now have Anne looking over all of my work, and adding things here and there that make the story pop out at you. I am going to re-write the first few chapters, send them to Anne and then post them up again! Anne52, you rock!! Everyone should take the time to thank Anne, because without her this story would seriously be nothing.
So enjoy!
CHAPTER SEVEN!!
"Ma Chere, you must wake from your slumber and eat--your onion soup and bread have arrived."
Her eyelids cracked, the sudden strain on the muscles sending sparkles across her vision. The light shining in her room strengthened them. She became only partially aware of being propped up against something sturdy and warm--until it moved. A sweet sigh whispered across her lips, its echo heard behind her.
She was leaning against Erik. Erik, the angel who had never left her side since she woke from her fever and had never stopped loving her when all odds seemed stacked against her.
The warm liquid felt delectable as it slid down her parched throat, forcing her to greedily swallow every mouthful. The rumble in his chest behind her signaled a chuckle and the warm liquid was taken from her lips, forcing a dissatisfied groan.
"Slow down ma chere. We do not wish for you to fall ill again, do we?" Her greasy hair stuck to her clammy head as she enthusiastically shook her head in reply. Gently, she allowed her voice to croak out a few words.
"I feel much better today, angel." She snuggled to him, coughing slightly at the new use of her voice. He sat back and stroked her hair gently, as if she were a porcelain figurine.
"I am glad to hear you speak. Soon you will be up and walking, and in no time I will have you singing your heart out again."
She slept soon after he finished feeding her, and it wasn't for another two days that she started to walk. Her first steps were shaky, both of her hands gripped Erik's arms as if death was waiting for her. She tried again and again, forcing herself to take short breaks to rest her healing body, and after a few hours she was walking, occasionally grabbing something to steady her weak legs
After a few days she became less dependent on Erik, and more dependent of her feet. She was able to bathe and dress, as well as fetch her own food, but she refused to step foot anywhere if Erik was not by her side.
After two weeks of caring for Mollia, Erik knew he had to get back to work. Rumors would start to float around that the opera ghost was gone, and he knew that nothing good would come out of rumors.
"Mollia, I have to leave for a little while. The managers are doubting me, and so I have work to finish. I fear that I have waited too long, and the longer I wait, the worse the work will be." He tried to walk away, but Mollia grabbed his arms, tears welling in her eyes, and her soft hiccups floated about the room. It was then that she fainted, falling straight into his arms. She came-to quickly, in her angels arms as she hoped.
"Please? Do not leave me angel."
Those words kept him at her side. He had become, not only a slave to music, but also a slave to his beloved Mollia. She held his heart within her hand, and the smallest squeeze could destroy him. She told him that night point-blank that she would give up anything to be with him. She promised him that she would end her career, but he wouldn't allow it.
"Mollia, ending your career would not leave you happy. I want you to live your life. I will always be with you, no matter what. I am so sorry." He couldn't hold his guilt-ridden self together any longer, and he broke down. Tears poured down his mask, and he looked at her, pleading her forgiveness.
"Erik, please don't cry. You are not at fault for my actions." Mollia gathered a sobbing Erik into her arms and cried with him. Their silent sobs were only able to reach the ears of a probing Madame Giry who waited on the other side of the door.
"Angel! I feel so good today. I feel like I could run down every street in Paris--twice!" She twirled, her face aglow and warm, just how it should be. She had gained back some of the weight lost due to her illness, and her curves tempted Erik beyond belief.
"I too feel ecstatic Mollia. I have persuaded the managers to drop their new Prima Donna, and you start rehearsal tomorrow! It is wonderful."
He could sense her fear before it even started to appear in her eyes. He drew her into his arms, locking her in his embrace.
"I will be at every rehearsal, ma chere. Do not be afraid, for in the shadows I shall loom. You will not be able to see me, but you shall sense me and feel me. I have done this all for you Mollia, and I wish for you to be happy."
Mollia attended the next three rehearsals, sensing her angel and staying calm. It wasn't until the fourth rehearsal, that she became anxious. She couldn't sense him. She knew he wasn't there and it frightened her to no end. Madame Giry sensed it and dismissed Mollia from rehearsal, telling her to rest.
The Phantom of the Opera was in the midst of something important. The managers were having a very interesting conversation amongst themselves.
"Damn the Phantom! Damn him and his charades to Hell!" The manager's tone was something fiercesome. His face contorted with anger. Raoul sat obediently across from him, his eyes shadowed with the memory of sleepless nights. He had a plan, but he could almost predict the manager's reacion. Clearly his thoughts allowed his plan to flow.
"Maybe we can reason with the Phantom. See if he can delay his payment until the opera house is back on its feet. He would be forced to comply with our request because, what's an opera ghost if there is no longer an opera to haunt." Raoul's voice was weary and his hand, wrinkled with aging, subconsciously glided to the level of his eyes.
The office around them only heightened their sense of stress--countless bills strewn across desks and other usable surfaces, each with their own LATE stamped across the front.
"I am not going to seek help from the hell-ridden monster, especially when he is the very thing that put us in this precarious situation!" The manager's words, set in stone, zip-lined through the wall and into the ears of a highly irritated Phantom.
As quietly as possible Erik stormed to his home, and it was there that he realized the only solution to his little problem. The Opera Ghost would have to retire. He refused to give up his pay check and lose the reputation that he had spent an eternity building up. The Opera Ghost was not a soft and kind individual.
Erik knew that Mollia would be upset if he kept it from her any longer, so he made his way to her room, waiting to gauge her reaction to his surprising news.
He didn't even have time to fully enter Mollia's room before she collapsed against him. Shocked by the sudden impact Erik froze in place confused, and then worried.
"They--they are closing down the Opera House, Angel!" Her sob muffled her words and his shirt muffled her sobs. Carefully, he lifted her and set her on the bed, sitting next to her.
"Mollia, they are closing down because of me, because I took too much money. I fear the only thing that I can do to fix this is retire. I will no longer be the Opera Ghost, or the Phantom. I will only be your angel, your Erik." Mollia shook her head and jumped away from him.
"No! I am not going to let you do that, Erik! The opera has been your life for so long. It would be wrong to have you give it all up!" She looked at him, slightly glaring. "How could you even think of such a horrid thing. There has to be a way!"
She turned to her lightly burning fire. His hands landed on her shoulders roughly and she spun round.
"You think this is what I want?! This is not what I had planned Mollia, but it is the only option, unless you want us both to lose what we love most!" The words were out, and it took two long moments before Erik figured out that he had unleashed his temper again.
"I have a plan Erik--and just to let you know, you are the thing that I love the most, not singing. You come first. What if you agree to end their rent, and as collateral take me to your home and only allow me to come up for rehearsals and performances? No one knows about us, and everyone will think that it is just the Phantom being the Phantom. Plus, you probably have enough money to lay off for a while, and this way you won't lose your reputation. Would that work?"
In a whirlwind of emotions Mollia was spinning in the arms of Erik.
"Oh, my sweet little butterfly, you mind is the most exquisite thing! That is positively diabolical. I love it, and I love you most!"
Mollia giggled, her face flushing at the pet name, but another problem would soon arrive. How were they going to propose the plan without giving themselves away? However, together they were already hard at work devising another plan.