Eyes Like Yours...
A/N: So sorry for the long update guys! I had horrible writers block, and Im still not pleased with this chapter, it could have been more detailed but I had a huge headache so bare with me ;D Enjoy!
Monica sighed as she paced around the lair waiting impatiently for its owner to wake. Everything was back in place and cleaned after grueling hours on her behalf, his mirror back in one piece, his mask still in pieces in her possession as she sighed and sat down at his organ and looked at the small white pieces.
She regretted ever leaving him; she had felt trapped at first and longed for freedom. After the brief time she spent with him however she had grown accustomed to him and life down in the lair. She couldn't understand why Christine had ever denied him or the lair, it was truly magnificent.
As for the Phantom, how could anyone say no to those metallic blue eyes of his? Monica found it quite impossible to think like Christine when it came to him, she had come back only for him. She paused slightly…why was she still here? She had made sure he was fine; she had promised herself to leave after she had made sure he could cope without her. And yet she was still there, sitting at his organ once more.
She sighed once more as she looked down at her hands. Bandages stained with blood due to fixing his mirror, she then stared at his mask which lay in ruin and picked up one of the pieces. She rose it up to the level of her eyes and examined it carefully. It seemed to mock her, she had been the reason everything had been in ruin, she was to blame.
She had already ventured out into the lake to retrieve his pieces of music and had taken quite a long time in copying them down onto new paper. The freshly copied pile rested a few feet away as she looked down at her hands again and clenched them trying to ignore the sharp jabs of pain she felt with the slightest movement.
She then frowned upon seeing his quill which she had placed next to the pile of papers, she rose quickly and in a panic as she moved over to it and proceeded to taking the blood off of it before he noticed as she sat back down at the organ and tried to clean it before he woke.
Unknown to her however he had woke a while ago and stood at the threshold of the Swan room eyes fixed upon her panicked form hunched over the organ. His eyes never leaving her form as he approached her silent as ever.
She jumped in horror once she felt someone behind her as she snapped her body around to look up at the famous Opera Ghost who by now had changed into an even darker attire and wore his full white mask. Blue eyes fixed on her intently as she tried to hide the pen from his view as he stretched out a hand demanding the object she was hiding.
"I'm sorry…" she began as she stretched out a shaking hand with the quill in it as he took it from her and examined it carefully. He saw almost immediately what she had been trying to hide form him, his attention turning to her as a blank expression settled onto his face.
Blood had been smeared on the grip of the pen and he distinctly remembered it didn't belong to him. His eyes narrowed dangerously as she tensed, surely an everlasting lecture would follow on how she should never touch his belongings without his permission.
Instead he crouched in front of her and held out his hand expecting her to give him something. She rose a questioning eyebrow at him not following along as she shook her head not understanding.
"Your hand," he demanded in a stern voice as she jumped slightly and doubted herself…was coming back really a good idea after all? She hesitantly reached out her left hand and gave it to him as he looked down at it in slight rage. She had purposely given him the un-bandaged one hoping he would fall for it and dismiss the subject. Sadly he was a master of deception; he had long ago caught on and resisted the urge to laugh at her simple plan of fooling him of all people.
"The other hand," he demanded a little more agitated than before as she took her left hand back and hesitated even more as she stretched out her right hand and placed it in his as he confirmed his guesses. He turned it over to look at her palm which was cut up and smeared with dry blood as he stood and motioned her over to him. She walked over to the edge of the lake on which he stood over, the same exact ledge she had fallen off of. She mentally made a note to pay him back for it, of all the places he could have picked it just had to be this one…coincidence? She didn't think so.
She sat down next to him as they both looked out at the glossy surface of the water, a light fog creeping over it as she jumped slightly when he took her hand in his once more. Something was different this time however, he wasn't wearing any gloves, they had been folded neatly on his lap as she tilted her head slightly.
She stared down dumbfounded when he pulled out a piece of white cloth and dipped in into the lake with all the grace of the world. The elegant bastard. She didn't have much time to tease him about it however when he undid the messy bandage around her hand and started to clean the cuts on her hand. She sat there in silence amazed that he was even doing this for her. She hissed in pain when he cleaned a particularly deep cut just above her wrist as he paused slightly before continuing more carefully than before.
"You really don't have to do this…" she told him shyly breaking the silence between them as his eyes glanced up at hers. Her breath caught in her throat the moment she looked at him, why she had left in the first place completely slipped from her mind.
He in turn stared up at her eyes and saw a range of emotions flash through her eyes, she was too innocent sometimes and that seized to amaze him. He had looked around the lair when she had been trying to clean his pen. She had bothered in rewriting all of his notes and operas, that alone must have taken its toll on her. He had seen the way in which she cleaned his organ, she had taken her sweet time in cleaning every key carefully and gently as if would break with the smallest form of pressure.
He admired that in her, never had anyone done something like that for him. His candle holders had all been placed back in order and the candles which had long ago burned out replaced by new ones. He then turned his attention back to her…why would anyone come back to him after he showed a less pleasant side of him? He pondered that question for a while.
He broke eye contact with her just as she was about to ask something and looked down at her hand, it was his fault that it was cut up. Had he not broken the mirror she wouldn't have had the urge to go and fix it. By the looks of it she had tried to piece back his mask to no avail.
"I take it you learned to never attempt to fix a broken mirror after this little incident," he told her, motioning to her hand. But she wasn't paying attention to her hand whatsoever by now. His voice, it had been a week since she heard his voice. It had a tune only angels could match and it drew her in unlike anyone or anything in her world.
The pain she had once felt due to the cuts was fading as he applied something to the wounds, she forgot to ask what it was due to her being transfixed in the way he moved his hand. Nevertheless it burned for a little before he started to wrap her hand back up with a clean bandage taking his time in doing it properly this time. He finished after a moment or so as he reached for his gloves and placed them back on and stood stiffly as he left her there staring after his form as he took a seat on the organ and paused slightly.
She paused slightly hoping he would play something, anything really. Her heart skipped a beat once he played the first notes flawlessly, the sad melody flowing and vibrating through the lair as she looked down at her hand and then back up at him. She got up slowly and winced as she walked over to him like she had done the first time she had ever heard him play.
She stood behind him watching him play for a while; he amazed her to no extent. Truly he was an angel of music. Christine had nailed that part, if only that part.
"You need to teach me how to play like that someday," she commented as he stopped playing at the sound of her voice so close to him. Like always his music had drawn him away from the world, so far that he failed to notice her presence behind him. He stood slowly and moved away from the organ as she looked at him questioningly as he stood behind her.
"Sit," he told her calmly motioning over to the organ as she gulped nervously. She eyed him slightly to see if he was messing with her, yes that had to be it, "Child I will not repeat myself…now sit," he ordered as she scurried over to the organ and sat down obediently. She regretted ever opening her mouth as she glanced at the keys before her wondering what he wanted of her.
"Place your hands on the keys," his voice commanded from behind her as she obeyed without hesitating, it was as if she was under a trance of some sort, one that only his voice could cause. His gloved hands reached out and placed themselves carefully on top of hers as he pushed down guiding her through a simple melody. She soon became entranced by the tune coming from the organ as she leaned her body back against his as he leaned forward slightly into her form as well still guiding her hands as he closed his eyes slightly feeling the notes flow through him.
Both of them unaware of what the music was doing to them as he moved closer to her unaware of the effect that the organ had on him as she moved forward allowing him some space to place a knee on the back of the chair for balance as he leaned into her while she responded accordingly and moved back into his comforting form. She sighed in content unaware of the close proximity in which they both found themselves in before they were startled back into reality.
A huge crash from upstairs made the Phantom snap out of his daze as he stopped playing and lifted his hands from hers and noticed she was leaning back into his chest. She too woke from her trance as she felt him pull his hands away and a warm body pressed up against her back. The blush that settled on her face was inevitable as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson when she felt him slowly back away from her.
"The renovating fools must have arrived," his voice told her as she nodded refusing to look at him and instead diverted her gaze down onto her lap which suddenly became interesting to her as she fiddled with her hands and the bandages he had wrapped around her right hand.
"I…I suppose I should head upstairs to make sure they don't run into anything that is to be kept hidden," she told him getting up abruptly from the organ and walking over stiffly to the curtain which held the passage leading to the upper levels of the Opera House.
She paused slightly as she heard his voice calling to her just before she disappeared behind the curtain.
"Your lessons will not be interrupted again by those fools, make sure you come back as soon as you can afford to leave those incompetent idiots," he called after her as a shy smile crept up on her already flushed face.
"Oui Maestro," she called back already waiting for the chance to come back to the lair where the Phantom of the Opera no doubt awaited for her sitting at his organ with those beautiful metallic blue eyes of his.
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