Ok, here's chapter 4!
My, this is going very well; I have a habit of getting bored by chapter 3. This is a good sign; YOU SHOULD ALL REVIEW IN CELEBRATION. Ha, kidding of course.
Even still, I appreciate reviews. (And on that note, thanks to mynameistolong and iwandamonian for their wonderful reviews!) As always, any concerns, questions, compliments, just drop me a review.
Without further ado: what I hope to be a humorous chapter 4!
Tell me what you think, and enjoy!
I was indeed escorted back to the armchair I'd woken up in, but the Phantom at least didn't restrain me. Maybe he was showing some compassion, maybe he was out of rope.
I wasn't sure which I preferred.
It was made very clear it would be unwise for me to leave this chair. So it was only my desire to remain unharmed that kept me tied down. As it were, I noticed at some point that the Phantom was missing. I neednt have gone looking for him though; he was rowing his way back through the gate as soon as I'd registered his absence.
He bumped to the shore and exited the boat. He paced on the stone floor rather huffily for a minute or two, clutching his head off and on, and even smashing a vase along the far wall. I must have squeaked in fear because the Phantom turned to me now; his face was distorted with anguish, and I was pretty sure he'd forgotten I was here.
He moved to another room to apparently continue his rage and turmoil in private without so much as a word to me. I pulled my feet up onto the chair and tried not to make a sound as I attempted to get comfortable; I now knew his anger and wouldn't dare disobey his one order to me until he'd calmed down. So I stayed in the armchair like a good girl. A few fearful tears may have squeezed out of my eyes when I finally shut them.
The next morning I awoke in the same position, apparently having been scared stiff. I was immediately made aware that my legs were numb and full of pins and needles. My neck was stiff, and as I raised a hand to massage it I also noticed that at least that arm was also asleep. I gasped when my lifeless feet slid off the seat of the chair, sending a shockwave of pain straight to my knees when they hit the ground. I moaned and simply bent over, my hands kneading my neck through my tangled hair. I had mostly regained control of my body before I saw two shining boots click into place on the ground in front of me. I took a long steadying breath before sitting upright. Thankfully, when I looked into his face, the Phantom seemed to be out of his tantrum.
"Good morning, Monsieur." I said carefully when he apparently wasn't going to say anything.
"Good morning, Mademoiselle." He returned from courtesy alone. There was an uncomfortable pause, for me at least; he frightened me, and I was afraid it would show in my eyes. So I instead chose to look out over the lake. Maybe I looked a little wistful, because the Phantom spoke again.
"Breakfast is waiting, if you desire." He said softer, but still in the same unreadable tone. The offer made me realize just how hungry I was, and I nodded.
He led me over to a table with two plates on it. I picked mine up and turned back to my chair. I sat carefully on it and started to nibble on some of the bread and cheese. I felt the Phantom's stare so I concentrated on chewing as quietly as possible, my gaze trained on the plate balanced on my lap.
"Did you sleep in the chair?" He asked me. I closed my eyes for a brief moment before answering.
"I did as I was instructed." I replied, reopening my eyes and glancing up at the Phantom slowly. He met my gaze steadily before turning back to his food.
"I don't remember instructing you to make yourself uncomfortable." He said. His tone wasn't any different, no warmer, but I felt a little more relaxed. Relaxed enough to push the conversation forward.
"Where did you go last night?" I asked cautiously before his mood turned darker.
"Roof." He said simply. I figured, by the distaste with which he said this single word, that I shouldn't press it. That's when I felt a very unwelcome sensation somewhere below my stomach.
"Excuse me, Phantom?" I called, trying to inconspicuously press my knees together. He nodded to signal he'd heard me, "Um, could I please excuse myself to use the bathroom?"
"You're allowed out of the chair now, if you behave." He said, misinterpreting what I meant.
"Thank you, Monsieur. But I am afraid I will be unable to- locate it on my own." I continued patiently. The Phantom turned to look at me.
"Locate what, Mademoiselle?" He asked evenly. I couldn't tell if he was just toying with me, so I cleared my throat and replied with a deliberate tone.
"Your bathroom, sir." I said. He looked me, not even blinking.
"I have no bathroom. Just go." He said, turning back to his plate.
"What?" I yelled, my voice unintentionally high as a wave of discomfort passed over me again.
"Do you wish to have some privacy?" He continued. I was getting upset. There was simply no talking to him.
"Women can't 'just go' like men!" I implored him, squirming.
"My condolences." He replied, the hint of a smile twitching on the side of his mouth. So he was just messing with me. Well I wasn't laughing.
"I need a bathroom." I said forcefully, "Like, five minutes ago. So you will take me up into the Opera Populaire so I can get to one." I was standing over him now, looking cross.
"You are awfully demanding for being my prisoner." The Phantom observed, "Why should I?"
"Because I can only become even more belligerent if you don't." I promised.
Later:
The Phantom seemed to realize that I would make good on my promise, so I was soon being escorted up onto the main level. Rising across the lake was a test of my control, but I made it. As soon as I'd walked back out of the bathroom a hand wrapped around my upper arm and pulled me into a shadowed alcove. I felt the leather of the Phantom's gloved hand slip over my mouth and his other hand move from my arm to hold my waist.
"Hush, foolish girl." He whispered in my ear as Monsieurs Firmin and Andre passed right past where we were hiding, arguing about what was to be done with "the body". It took me only a moment to realize they had to be talking about my Father. I strained to listen in the echoing hall.
"-can't just dispose of it." Firmin was saying.
"But he no apparent family." Andre countered, "Wife's been dead for years, and now his son Charlie has gone missing. Horrible."
"I daresay we know who's kidnapped the poor lad." Firmin said not unsympathetically.
"And in that cause he may as well be pronounced dead." Andre agreed.
"I suppose we could just turn the body over to the cemetery. Perhaps they'll know what to do with it." Firmin concluded, his voice growing faint.
I couldn't stop the tears from coming even if I'd tried. I sobbed silently against the Phantom's hand and felt my knees wobble. He turned me around to better support me and I cried into his chest, only faintly aware I was allowing my Poppa's murderer to comfort me. But I cast the thoughts from my mind; for now at least I just needed to be held.
I vaguely felt a hand petting my hair and a soft voice in my ear. The Phantom was singing quietly to me.
I fell asleep just like that, either from emotional exhaustion or the massive sense of security I felt when he held me.
