Thank you for being so patient with my idle-ness.

I do apologise.

Angel's wings: Thank you for your continued feed back! Like seriously, thanks.

Anyway, let's do this.

Lily sat, twiddling her thumbs, finding herself once again sat in the cold and crumbling church. Her hands were clasped together as she muttered prayer after prayer into them. She shivered. She was thoroughly wet and it chilled her bones.

Her hair stuck to her scalp, droplets of water ran down her face as she rocked back and forth on her knees. Every time a droplet fell from her face and made a splat onto the floor, it made her jump up and scream. Then she would purse her lips, kneel back down, close her eyes and continue to mutter to herself.

God could never forgive her. In all that she did and in all that she thought, her soul had become tainted. There was no place in his arms, in his heaven for her. She continued to rock. The door opened.

"So, here I find you again, child." It was the kind looking man, clad in black, he approached her once again. With wide eyes, she pulled herself up onto the pew and took shaky breaths. "My dear, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

Gulping, Lily nodded. She wrung her hands in her lap and he watched her. "You look like someone with a guilty conscience, child." At this she gave a slight giggle and with shaky voice said;

"I am far from a child now father, far from human. Far from innocent." With that, she stood and walked away once again.

Cynthia's parents sat, staring at the tall man who stood beside their daughter, aiding her and holding her hand in his. This was rather unorthodox. Cynthia would never let anyone help her, not even her sister. Lily looked pale as she stared at them both, eyes wild and wide.

"What is this?!" Her voice sounded choked and high, almost like she was deprived of oxygen and about to faint.

"Cynthia, I think it's best if I leave now." Erik whispered tenderly into her ear as everyone stood staring at his mask. However, as he tried to turn away she wouldn't let go. "Cynthia..." He began.

"In a hurry to leave Mr...?" Her father, Henry, asked as he attempted to sit up into a position that made him seem bold and affluent. Erik stopped.

"Destler." Erik cleared his throat nervously and turned around once again. "I just think it improper to stay, seeing as though you have missed your darling daughter for so long and I-" He was interrupted when Gwyneth laughed hautily.

"Improper? Improper you say?!" The old woman flew to her feet. "You are the one who takes our daughter away for your wicked deeds and bring her back at this hour!" Cynthia scoffed.

"Erik is a good, kind man. He does no wicked deeds!" She yelled, fist clenched and veins practically popping from her ethereal features. "He has been more a parent, guardian, friend and lover than you could be, or Nadir!" Her mother looked aghast. As she fell back into her chair, Henry gave his head a sad shake.

"What?", Cynthia asked as she read the silence and the tension in the air. Erik gripped her hand and pulled her in close.

"Nadir... Nadir is dead." Lilly said shortly, darkness looming in her voice.

They sat around the table. No one said a word, the tea had gone cold. Yet, no one called a maid to make a fresh pot, no one dared to ask. Cynthia sat in the arm-chair, Erik stood by her side like a faithful dog, waiting. Meanwhile, her mother scowled at him disapprovingly. Henry dared not make contact with the amber eyed man.

"Someone please say something." Lily jumped in as she writhed her hands through her hair. The silence was deafening.

"How did he die?" Erik asked, looking to Henry who immediately looked down, seemingly at his shoes. Gwyneth pursed her lips.

"They found him with a noose around his neck, red. Someone had broken in there, strangled him to death." Henry explained as he continued to look down at his shining shoes. Lily looked up to Erik, making brief eye contact, before something caught in her throat and she had to look away.

"Nadir was... A dear friend of mine..." Erik tried to explain, but was interrupted by the nattering of the old hag.

"Yet you stole Cynthia, a woman he loved and adored!" Erik clenched his toes and ground his teeth together as she cackled on, the vile witch.

"Cynthia, I really should be leaving now." For a second time, he went to turn away but was stopped. This time by Henry.

"Wait!" He called out. Erik stomped his foot against the ground and came to a halt. "You can't possibly go back out in that rain, stay the night." Gwyneth gave a wide-eyed glare at her husband. He nonchalantly shook it off. "In a separate room to my daughter of course."

Erik looked around, though Henry seemed genuine, his wife was the problem. There was also the issue with his mask. What if they took it off? Then he definitely wouldn't be allowed anywhere near their daughter.

But he saw how Cynthia's face lit up when her father asked. It was almost progress. So he accepted their offer, and the inevitably rough night.

Erik sat next to Cynthia. Apparently, in her family they spend an hour every night doing what they call 'family time'. It wasn't a bad arrangement, sparing one hour a day to spend in each others company as the days get so busy. It was normal, Erik wasn't accustomed to 'normal'.

The fire crackled away as Lily read a story about a highwayman who falls in love with a woman, it ended sadly. She gave her life to save his. It was a bittersweet ending all in all. But it seemed to satisfy her parents that her education wasn't after all a waste.

It seemed that each of them did something to share with the family. Erik had heard Nadir speak of Gwyneth's singing, strong but sadly not the most tuneful. Nonetheless, in an attempt to keep peace he clapped.

"Do you play any instruments, my boy?" Asked Henry as he slowly pulled himself up out of his chair. Erik cleared his throat.

"Violin, organ, piano, flute, cello, double bass, bassoon, trumpet, clarinet and harp." Cynthia listed for him, although, he was only going to say piano. The rest makes him sound a little egotistical.

Henry laughed and crossed over to the room, a limp in his step, to a piano with a white cover over it. In one, swift motion, he ripped it off. It revealed a shining, black, grand piano in all its splendor. The old man looked at Erik with a glint in his eye as Erik sat down, pressed his fingers to the keys and played.

Story will develop from here.

Sorry about the long gaps, currently losing motivation.

[insert more excuses here]

Reviews help allot.

Thanks.