Disclaimer: Nothin's mine. Ooo! Hold on, Leah's mine, and Sarah, and Eliza…
A/N: Wow, is only one person still following me? Well, please R+R.
Chapter 4
Leah lay restlessly in her bed; the gentle breeze blowing the curtains was scented with all the smells of a Paris day… She longed to be out in it.
Her arm was completely still, but when she moved it, it still ached.
She furiously wondered where Erik was, and why he had left her, if he was even going to come back.
Although all these doubts ran through her head, she still had faith in her Angel; he would not leave her here unless it was completely necessary…
Again, the door creaked open to admit Sarah, her rosy demeanour slightly faded, and her movements restrained.
"I've brought you Breakfast… I hope you like it… And you must eat to keep your strength up…" She bent hesitantly over Leah's bed, and placed the tray carefully on the girls lap.
Sarah stepped away, and Leah began to eat. As Leah began to take a bite into a warm pastry, she noticed Sarah was still watching her.
Sarah saw the eyes of the girl come to rest on her. "Miss?" Leah said questioningly.
Sarah looked uncomfortably round the room, then asked, "What was he like?" quietly.
Leah drank deeply from her glass. The water felt like it was hitting the bottom of an empty wine barrel. She was starving.
"What was who like?" she asked, having an inkling of the name she was about to hear, but wondering why the Nurse avoided saying it.
"Erik," She shuddered, "What was Erik like?" Sarah congratulated herself at her own courage, and checked herself at her snooping.
Did she really want to know of the man that drove this seemingly sane and normal girl to suicide?
For a moment Leah stared at the Nurse uncomprehendingly. She now had to invent a person… and quickly…"Well…" she began slowly, "He had a head of dark hair…" that was not really too far from the truth. "He is tall, handsome, perfect, I think… but others are inclined to believe differently…" she grimaced, these thinks also not too far from reality.
Sarah looked uneasy. "Perfect, I think… but others are inclined to believe differently…" this was it.
Erik was strange in some way, but regardless, Leah loved him, and would accept no different…Perchance Leah's parents were opposing their joining… and that is what drove them both to Elope?
Sarah really was letting her imagination run wild now, and persisted, "…How… How did he… How did he die?"
Leah thought fast, "He hung himself," she blurted, and could barely stop herself from letting her hand fly to her mouth, so she busied those hands in cutting her eggs.
Sarah gasped. More Suicide… "Is… Did he hang himself… for regret? Sadness? Is it because you two could never be?" She added the last sentence quickly.
Leah looked up from her food. This Nurse was making up her own story, she was practically writing Leah's history herself. Well let her believe what she wanted. "Yes. My parents were unrelenting, and said we were never to marry. He hung himself for me." She did not falter now.
This woman did not have any business in her matters.
"Why did you do it? You had so much ahead of you… a life, a family… and now you are damned… Why?" Sarah gabbled.
"Are you saying…" Leah furrowed her brows, "That you think I tried to kill myself also?" she asked incredulously.
The she began to think, how else cold she explain the blade wound without endangering Erik?
"I wish to rest…" she said resolutely, as she pushed her tray away, and pulled up the sheets.
Sarah took the barely touched tray of food, and left, but when she got to the door she mumbled, barley audibly, "Beggin' your pardon for pryin' to far, M'Lady," and closed the door.
The day passed slowly, Eliza coming in to Leah's room occasionally to check her charge's dressing, and make sure she was well.
Not much conversation was initiated, and now Eliza was reserved around Leah too.
Sarah did not come back, and Leah now knew why.
The infirmary was catholic, and as far as she knew, Suicide was a great sin.
Leah sighed to herself as she looked out of the window into a clear Parisian day, drawing to a close in the gathering twilight.
Eliza fussed over her arm, putting fresh bandaged on the wound. Leah looked around as the last of the old dressings came off.
The gash was red and a little swollen, but it looked clean and did not hurt as much anymore.
The stitches were done in rough nylon, but were neatly executed by an experienced hand.
"This was a dirty blade that did this to you, Leah." Eliza said simply. It was a remark, not a question. "But it is healing well; you should be well again in… two, three days maybe?"
Eliza made the girl down a vial of dark opaque liquid, then fixed a clip to the fabric, and left Leah alone again with her thoughts.
The first stars were beginning to appear, and Leah quickly made a wish.
She didn't know why she still believed in wishing on stars, but in the light of the last day or two, anything seemed possible.
She settled back onto the pillows and closed her eyes, watching the last rays of sunlight play on her eyelids.
Leah dozed off and woke with a jerk, startled by her surroundings, expecting to wake to her poster of 'The Phantom of the Opera London Stage Show Production' stuck to the ceiling of her slightly flaking red-and-black painted room.
But instead, she woke to this almost Renaissance-looking room.
The stars now twinkled brightly in the inky darkness of the sky, and looking at this, she could almost fool herself into thinking she was home.
Settling down for sleep again, her attention was slowly caught by the slightly shifting curtains.
The white floor length curtains draped a window that looked out onto a small balcony, a nice view of the street below, but not much wind reached them.
Moments ago, there was no breeze, not even a whisper of wind in the sky, now the gentle breeze was more of an insistent soft wind.
Then as if by magic, the windows were open, and the white curtains framed an entirely black-clad form, the stark contrast brilliantly illuminating in the dark night.
His cloak swirled around him in the breeze, making him a grand figure, his mask the only white in his clothing.
"Erik! My Angel!" She cried breathlessly, shivering at the magnificence of his entrance and form, as well as the biting cold. "I knew you would not leave me."
With his long dark cape still being tossed in the wind, he advanced toward the bed, her imposing Angel of Music in all his glory.
He leant down and lifted her effortlessly from the covers, placing her gently on her feet, yet still holding her close if she were to fall. "Yes, my dear Leah, I have come for you." He whispered into her ear.
He held her by her shoulders at arm length, his eyes looking black as his cloak in the gloom, the intense look not lost in the dark. "Are you ready, my Dear?" He asked, holding out his hand for her taking, and Leah was again struck by the beauty and magnificence of her Phantom in the night.
She took his had willingly, with a roguish, thankful and admiring smile.
He held her hand tightly as he walked her slowly toward the balcony, his eyes never leaving her.
He stopped at the intricate balustrade, took a last look at her, and leapt into the night, sailing down to the street below, still holding tight Leah's trusting hand.