Break now. Expect uber updates!
And sorry if Raoul doesn't have blue eyes. My PotO movie information is rusty right now. Also, lunch was called dinner back then and dinner was supper, so. Heads-up.
oo0o0oo
The next day seemed to move by slowly. Meg didn't talk to her all day after her nervous outburst, and the ballet rats did nothing but stare at Tori suspiciously as she numbly went through all of the movements of the dances, silently making her way up and down the stage and only singing when she absolutely had to.
Erik didn't leave the house at all: he was there when she left for the Opera House and he was there when he returned home. What he was doing was unknown to Tori, as he didn't say a word about it.
When practice was over, the last thing Tori wanted to do was talk to someone. All she wanted to do was go home, eat dinner, lie down, and sleep. She didn't want to have a conversation or express her thoughts, especially not to-
"Tori!"
She froze, shoulders starting to hunch despite her training to stand up straight and tall at all times. "What, Raoul?" she asked, trying as she might to keep her voice cheery.
"I wanted to ask you something," he replied as he caught up to her, putting a friendly hand on her shoulder. Tori ignored the contact as best she could.
"Tell me then," she said, turning towards him.
Something looked very uncertain in his blue eyes...almost thoughtful, as if he didn't expect to get this far in the conversation before Tori would have shaken him off.
"I know you are married..."
"Mm-hmm." Tori started to inch away slowly.
"But I would like to get to know you better..."
"Go on." She was a little closer to the door, and he hadn't noticed yet. Perfect.
"So on Saturday..."
Little more. Almost there...
"Would you like to go somewhere for dinner?"
No! Tori grit her teeth silently. If there was some way to avoid him entirely, it would be wonderful, and she certainly wouldn't hesitate to hear it. Unfortunately, seeing as he was the patron and main income of money for the Opera House, he wouldn't be shaken very easily.
But dinner?
"I'll pay," Raoul offered lamely, seeming to shrink in on himself slightly. Perhaps Tori was imagining things.
Perhaps not.
"I'll think about it."
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Erik was innocently playing piano when Tori got home: exactly the same song as when she had left.
He didn't acknowledge her as she walked up the stairs slowly, exhausted with the toll of the dance practice.
"Tori?" she heard him ask quietly.
Tori paused, but eventually kept walking. She was much too tired to acknowledge him right now.
"Tori!"
She kept walking. Why was she not saying anything about her tiredness, even she didn't know. Her breathing became deeper as her body started to become more tired.
A hand caught her arm firmly. Turning, she found Erik looking somewhat desperate. Somewhat only because there was an air of suspicion around him, and his eyes were alight with curiosity.
"Whatever's the matter? You aren't answering to me."
"I..." Tori waved him off. "I'm just tired, Erik. I'll talk to you in the morning."
"Is...is everything all right at the Opera?"
"Yes, fine. Please, I just want to lie down."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"...he?"
Erik's fists clenched from where he stood, still in the middle of the stairs where he had stopped Tori. "You know who I meant."
Ohhhhhh. Suddenly, in the midst of her getting his gist, her heart skipped a beat.
She hadn't brought him into the picture when "thinking about it".
