Hey everyone. I would just like to thank those of you who have been reviewing almost every chapter. It really, really helps to motivate my updates.
And I must apologize that the updates this week are slowing down to every two days rather than every other day. Finals are coming up to I will continue to be a little slow over the next two weeks. Studying is kicking my butt. Though I will try to update at least three times a week still.
Oh and just a note to make sure there is no confusion. Brielle does not recognize Erik from the theater. When he was singing he was far enough away, and masked, that she wouldn't know it was him up on the stage. He has seen her but she has never seen him.
Disclaimer: Don't own the Phantom characters. But I do own everyone else!
Chapter 9: Fire and Ice
Brielle walked quickly across what had formerly been her room and set the heavy tray she was balancing upon the bedside table. The argument she had just finished with her brother weighed terribly on her mind.
Since they were young Conner had always tried to shield her as best he could. Now that they were both grown, the old habit to protect had not faded within him. I should not have been so short with him. He is only thinking of my welfare. If only he didn't have to be so irritating!
She sighed, shaking her head as she turned and pulled back the bedside curtain quietly. Brielle jumped when the man upon the bed pulled the sheets tighter about his body. She hadn't expected him to wake so soon.
Over the past week she had cared for the stranger day and night, nursing him through the infection which had been wreaking havoc upon his body. During that time he had never regained full consciousness.
He had been trapped in a world of nightmares and memories, calling out in the night for mercy from some unknown evil. Brielle had stayed by his side all the while, praying that he would not die in such pain. She put every ounce of her medical knowledge to work, but none of it appeared to help in the slightest. It was only when she held his hand or wiped his burning forehead that he knew any peace. Like a child he was soothed by her touch and softly spun lullabies.
Now the man was fully awake, his eyes burning with an intensity she had never seen before. He has blue eyes, she thought absently as her gaze flickered to his bare chest. A faint blush bloomed in her cheeks in response to her wandering eyes. What is the matter with me? I have been looking at him all week. Nothing is different.
Brielle turned her gaze instantly from his form so as not to embarrass herself by staring at the stranger. She missed the fact that her action sparked a dark scowl to slide over his features.
When he suddenly spoke, the deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down Brielle's spine. "What is the matter, can you not even bear to look? Your feminine sensibilities must be terribly fragile to prevent you from meeting my gaze even with my mask on."
Her eyes instantly shot to his at his words. An angry scowl crossed over his face as he waited for her reaction.
The open, almost friendly expression upon her face instantly shut down. It was as if a curtain fell shut behind her eyes, turning them into frozen pools within a stony face. Brielle raised her chin haughtily, her hands instinctively fisting upon her hips. She made a point of staring the ill mannered man right in the eye unblinkingly.
"Is it a French custom to insult your host before even being introduced to them?" she asked icily. Apparently her calm and biting words were not what the stranger had been expecting, for the annoyed expression upon his face transformed into one of surprise.
Without missing a beat Brielle continued. "I had hoped your horrible manners were due to your illness Monsieur. However, it appears as if you are naturally a brute." The man's mouth fell open in outrage at her comment; he didn't seem to know how to react to her.
"And if you must know I averted my eyes to protect your modesty, monsieur. You are naked as the day you were born under that sheet." She turned and picked up a thermometer from the tray she had carried in, as the stranger stared at her in disbelief before quickly pulling up the sheet to check her words.
"Please open your mouth. I need to check your temperature," she said calmly, leaning forwards with the thermometer held at the ready.
Erik balked at her advance, his face flushing bright pink. He held out a hand to keep Brielle at arm's length as he pulled the blankets up higher about his bare torso. He had never been in such a state of undress in front of a woman before. His mind was reeling from that fact.
"Keep away from me wretched woman!" he hissed, angry at himself for the blush heating his cheeks.
"Do not fret, monsieur, you have nothing I haven't seen before." Somehow these words didn't appear to make the man feel any better.
"What sort of household raised such an unladylike wisp of a girl? Never have I met a woman with less feminine modesty," he blustered as his arm tired and fell to his side.
Brielle straightened her spine and fixed Erik with an intimidating glare. "My raising was an excellent one monsieur. And I thank you for your compliment."
"It wasn't a compliment!" he sputtered, not quite knowing what else to say. His voice was quickly rising to dangerous levels.
"But of course it was. I have always wished I were born a boy. Men are allowed to do whatever they please. Be that to go to medical school or wander about the cellars of an Opera and then insult the young ladies who saved them. Now will you open your mouth and take this thermometer, or will I be forced to use another orifice to get your temperature?" Brielle raised her powder white eyebrows pointedly and with a malicious smile she tapped the thermometer against her palm.
Stubbornly, Erik kept his mouth firmly clamped shut, glaring fiercely at the vexing woman standing next to him. A muscle in his left cheek began to twitch as their battle of wills stretched on silently for several moments. He didn't think this tiny girl would follow through on her empty threats. She may have been used to bullying her brother but she isn't going to bully me.
Bri shrugged and hooked a knee over the side of the bed. "Alright then, boyo. Flip yourself over and we can do this the hard way!"
Erik's mouth gaped open at her plucky disregard for all things proper. Brielle instantly shoved the thermometer into the man's open mouth. Closing his slack jaw with one finger, she looked down at her pocket watch, carefully monitoring the second hand till it was time to take the instrument out.
Glancing quickly at the irate man whose mouth she was currently holding shut, Brielle couldn't help but let a smile slip past her icy defenses. "I wouldn't have really done anything so horrible. I just needed you to open your mouth long enough for me to get an accurate temperature."
The man's eyes blazed with white hot fury at her words. He raised a shaking hand and grabbed hold of her delicate wrist in an iron grip.
"How dare you…" he growled, his voice shaking with rage. The thermometer nearly tumbled from his tight lipped mouth.
The smile slowly faded from Brielle's face, her frigid guards glazing over her face once more. The black bruise over her eye grew ever more prominent as the color drained from her smiling cheeks.
"Release me boyo," she ordered quietly. "I can stand your snotty mouth but I will not put up with any violence. So either let go immediately or I will show you exactly what an Irish temper entails."
A tense moment followed her words as the two squared off, their eyes boring into each other's gaze. Her's sharp as a winter's day, his glowing with blistering hot intensity.
Finally Erik remembered himself through his temper and released the girl. Never in his life had he raised a hand to a woman. This girl would not be an exception. A brute he may be at times but he was not a monster.
In response she reached forwards and snatched the thermometer from his mouth. Glancing at it quickly she stepped back from the bed.
"Congratulations, your fever has broken." Brielle murmured casually as she turned and placed the tiny instrument onto the bedside table. Her calm exterior indicated that the friction of the previous moment was already forgotten. But her razor edged eyes betrayed her annoyance.
Hefting the tray onto one hand, Brielle turned from the dazed man and slowly made her way towards the door.
"You should get some rest now monsieur. It is important you do not wear yourself out before you are fully recovered."
"You cannot expect for me to stay here," Erik spat at her retreating back.
Brielle turned at his words, a disturbingly pleasant smile taking hold of her features. "No one will stop you monsieur. You are welcome to leave as soon as you can walk out the front door."
"Then I will leave immediately! Give back the clothing your have stolen from me!"
"I stole nothing, you silly man. Your clothes are folded atop the dresser. Good luck trying to get them on."
Once more she turned from him, flicking her gleaming white braid back over her shoulder. Brielle listened as the infuriating man struggled to sit up. She hesitated at the door.
"By the way…" she began slowly, "what is your name?"
Erik stared at her flabbergasted, all thoughts of escaping vanished within his mind. Hardly anyone in his entire lifetime had asked him his name. Most merely referred to him as the Opera Ghost. Most never cared. This girl didn't seem to know the rules which had always dictated his life.
"Erik…" he murmured, his confused blue eyes avoiding her gaze. Clearing his throat he began again, louder this time. "My name is Erik."
Brielle nodded, her eyes softening despite her cool expression. "A pleasure to meet you, Erik. My name is Brielle. Can I write to your family so they do not worry about you?"
Falling back against his pillows exhausted Erik turned his head away from the girl and scowled. "There is no one in this damnable world that would worry about me. So save your ink and your maddening sympathy for some one else."
For a moment Brielle hesitated at the door. Though Erik's words were meant to be cruel, she could only hear the agonizing sorrow hidden within his statement. Though his expression was as hard as the mask covering half his face, she saw the emptiness in his tired eyes.
"You look tired," she said serenely. Taking care not to allow her voice to betray what she saw behind the man's defenses.
"Rest now. If you need anything I will be in the next room. You need only to call out and I will hear you. Sweet dreams, Erik."
And with that Brielle turned and vacated the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Erik was left to stew over the infuriating encounter.
Slowly, despite his burning anger, Erik's eyes drooped shut. With a sigh he settled back into his pillows and slipped into a surprisingly uneventful dream, Brielle's voice echoing within his mind. Sweet dreams, Erik. Sweet dreams…