HOWDY!
Sorry it's taken me a while in posting this chapter. My last chapter wasn't my best. I kind of did it in a hurry and I regret doing that. Maybe I'll go back and fix some things. Maybe not. I dunno. I just wanted this chapter to at least make sense and to take my time instead of rushing to post it.
I hope you guys like this chapter. I'm having a hard time focusing on Raoul and Meg scenes. I have a history with the two of them, but it's still hard for me to do certain scenes and figure out how things should go.
Also, when sending reviews, if you have criticism please keep it constructive. I will just delete reviews that are hateful.
Enjoy!
Rehearsals ran long into the night. La Carlotta had to be fitted into the costume and practice with the company. The diva insisted she knew her part perfectly, but the managers insisted upon a proper rehearsal. Which meant that Christine would be needed to practice her role. It was a silent role, but it was still necessary for her to be there. Meg didn't think it would be best for the girl, but the managers insisted.
She was sent to gently coax Christine out of the apartment. The entire walk over Meg felt nervous. She didn't want to damage poor Christine even more. Thankfully the brunette had gotten some rest the night before. Maybe it wouldn't be too hard to get her dressed and back to the Opera House.
The cool breeze brushed over Meg, sending chills down her spine. She hugged her plain white shawl tightly around her. Soon it would be winter. Meg loved winter. She loved playing in the snow with Christine and the fashions of winter. They could never afford anything extravagant, but it was always nice to window shop and notice the ladies that had exquisite winter clothes. Meg also liked snuggling up with huge quilts and sit by the fire with a good book and mug of hot chocolate.
Was it winter yet?
Meg grinned to herself, moving through the streets. Thankfully the boarding house was very close to the theater. She took a deep breath before slipping inside and upstairs to their apartment. When she opened the door, she expected silence. Not...singing?
"Christine?" Meg called out.
Christine twirled out of the kitchen, dark curls pinned atop her head and a broom in hand. She laughed and blushed with embarrassment, her song ending instantly. She seemed refreshed and clean, and Meg noticed her dark curls were damp. Christine must have taken a bath. And she was dressed in a clean day dress. What shocked Meg most was the easy smile on Christine's lips, and the shining light in her blue eyes.
"Hello, Meg. Where did you and your mother slip off to?" Christine asked in a light voice.
"Um...rehearsals...and a meeting with the managers. Christine, the Pha-erm...Erik...he wanted you to have the role of the Countess." Meg said as gently as she could. Christine's eyes lit up, and Meg caught the corners of her lips tilt up. "The managers gave it to La Carlotta. You were given the silent role."
"Oh. Well...a role is a role. I should be so thankful that they even gave me anything in the light." Christine said with a small smile. She leaned the broom against the wall, and slipped the apron around her waist off. "I assume I'm needed, yes?" Meg nodded slowly. "Alright. Give me a moment and I'll find my shoes."
Meg followed Christine into their bedroom, studying her cautiously. "Are you alright, Christine?"
"Yes, of course." Christine found her shoes beneath her bed and slipped them on. "Should I not be?" She giggled.
Meg widened her dark eyes. "No! No, it's wonderful that you're okay. I've been so worried about you...I'm glad to see you smiling again."
"There's no need to dwell on past events. Things happen. The world...isn't a perfect place. I'm alright, Meg." Christine murmured, brushing a dark curl out of her face. Meg wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe that Christine would be alright and move past all this. She wanted to believe that the light in her eyes and the smile on her face would last. But Meg knew Christine would still hold on to her Angel, this Phantom.
Meg slowly nodded and reached out to give her best friend a strong hug. "I love you, Christine. I just want everything to be okay again." She murmured. Christine giggled softly and hugged her friend just as fiercely.
"Don't you worry, Meg. Everything is fine." Christine murmured as she pulled away. "I love you too. Now come along, we don't want to keep them waiting."
Upon returning, rehearsals were in full swing again. Meg and the other girls ran through the ballet for the managers before La Carlotta and Christine ran through their scenes together. Everyone complimented Christine on her fresh face and smile, and it was obvious Christine would make the best of her silent role. She shined even without saying a word. Meg watched her from the wings, a small smile on her lips.
"Christine should be playing the Countess, not Carlotta." A masculine voice beside Meg mumbled. She jumped and looked up quickly. A little sigh of relief escaped her as she recognized her friend Alessandro. He had always been a good friend to Meg, without pushing anything or wanting anything from her like the other boys who had made their affections known. He was born in Italy and brought to Paris when he was a young boy. His accent was interesting, and Meg liked hearing stories of what he remembered of Italy.
"I don't know...she finds ways to shine even in the faintest of lights." Meg replied. "Christine would excel in anything she does. She always has." Meg smiled proudly, sending Christine a little wave as the brunette glanced over at the blonde.
"True." He chuckled. "Though I am curious as to know who her tutor is. He must be descended from Heaven itself to bestow such a voice on a girl."
Meg flinched, but tried to cover her true feelings with an easy smile. "Something like that." She murmured.
"Oh come, tell an my dear! I can keep a secret." He hunkered down close to her, and she couldn't help but laugh as his tall frame loomed over her.
"I'm afraid I'm sworn to secrecy, my dear Alessandro." She laughed, resting her hand upon his arm. "Let's just say it was a miracle and leave it at that."
He grinned at her, his green eyes dropping to her small hand still on his arm. He liked how small Meg was. He thought they made a nice looking pair. Perhaps one day he could take a step in that direction. For now, she would never see him as anything but a friend. Before he could say anything more, Madame Giry whisked Meg away to change her costume. Meg also had a silent role, though she wasn't as prominent as Christine, obviously. Alessandro sent her a small smile before looking back towards the stage.
The Vicomte had been watching the exchange between Meg and Alessandro from his place with the managers in the audience. The pair had seemed very comfortable together, and it didn't sit well with Raoul. He wanted to be the one to make Meg smile, to make her laugh like that. He needed to be more assertive. They weren't children anymore. Things weren't as easy as before. He shook his head, and he looked towards center stage where Christine and La Carlotta bounced about. He wasn't particularly fond of this new opera. It was comedic and all around silly.
He had liked the ballet though, for obvious reasons.
Meg appeared with three other heavily made up actors. She was dressed as a maid, and Raoul couldn't help but notice how adorable she was. She was so light on her feet as she moved to the stage. Christine sent Meg a bright smile, and Meg sent an almost hesitant one back. Raoul noticed her dimples hadn't appeared when she smiled. Was something wrong? Nothing seemed really wrong to Raoul. Christine was practically glowing. Perhaps her break from the Opera House was good for her.
Though all this nonsense with the notes and the Opera Ghost and Meg fearing a so called 'Angel' from storybooks didn't sit well with Raoul. Obviously something beyond his understanding was happening.
Meg brushed her fingers over the elaborately designed maid's outfit she wore as they took their places onstage. She adored the costumes she was privileged to wear on a daily basis. She would stay poor her entire life if it meant doing this every single day. Of course, she'd die an old maid with a million books and most likely some cats. Still, it sounded pleasant enough if it meant being onstage. Even dress rehearsals thrilled her. Well, they usually did.
Christine was just so happy. It shouldn't be odd, but after the past few days, after learning everything she had known wasn't true, Meg thought her friend would be distraught longer. Something was going on. Meg just couldn't figure out what.
Perhaps Christine really was just happy. Maybe she had just mourned it enough and was ready to continue on with her life.
Meg shook her head and focused on rehearsals. It was hard though, when she realized Raoul was sitting with the managers in the audience. His blue eyes seemed to be locked on her. Once she had realized he was there, she felt his gaze the entire time. She managed to send him little smiles, and couldn't help but show off a little. He sent her easy grins, his blue eyes crinkling in that way she adored when they were children.
Meg's fingers still tingled from hours before. The slight way he had reached for her, the sound of his whispered voice...it all made Meg lose focus just thinking about it. She stumbled, knocking into one of the other girls playing a maid also. She frowned at Meg, and Meg instantly turned bright red. She pulled her cap down a little more, attempting to hide her red face as she moved back into position.
Meg couldn't let a silly boy fog her mind like this. She had to focus on her dancing, on her future. She didn't have time for boys, and that included the Vicomte.
But still, Meg couldn't help but look over at him with shy brown eyes. He sent her an amused, yet sweet smile in her direction. Sweet, warm Raoul. It was easy for Meg to think of him as the boy on the beach who had saved her shawl for her. It was hard to think of him as an aristocrat, as the Vicomte de Chagny. Her lips slowly quirked up into a smile, and she felt her cheeks grow warm the longer they held eye contact.
Despite her deepest urges not to, Meg was getting her hopes up. Maybe her future held something more than dancing. Maybe her future held the boy from the sea.
Rehearsals ran long into the night. The managers had tried numerous times to slip away with different excuses, which only resulted in La Carlotta throwing a fit and even mustering up some crocodile tears at times. It would take much too long to console her, which was the main reason they had to stay in the theater so late. Everyone tried to keep their spirits high and stay positive about rehearsals. But it was difficult with La Carlotta running everything.
Even Raoul was stuck there. Not that he minded. He enjoyed the light music and watching it all come together. He felt like he was let in on a secret by seeing rehearsals like this. Everyone was just as poised as they would be if they were in front of an audience, but sometimes a person would crack and burst into a laughing fit or trip over themselves or something.
He also didn't mind watching Meg also. He liked watching her expressions when she was acting, and the almost ethereal way she danced. Raoul swore the music pulled her like a puppet. The other girls seemed to dance in a pattern of practiced steps. But Meg was actually being led by the music. Raoul sighed, staring up at Meg dreamily as the ballet girls practiced the ballet for act three. Meg didn't seem to notice anything but the music and the dance, even at such a late hour. Her costume had to have been heavy, and her feet aching. But she didn't even reveal that to anyone. Not once.
Something moved above the girls, but no one seemed to notice. Raoul tore his blue gaze away from Meg briefly to look up. He had to lean forward in his seat to see the stagehands high above the stage in the flies. One Raoul recognized as Joseph Buquet from the day he first arrived at the Opera House was drinking with another stagehand. Raoul stood up, stretching his legs as he took a step towards the side of the stage. A few ballet girls giggled and stumbled a little, noticing the handsome Vicomte coming closer to them. But Raoul was paying more attention to the two men up above.
Perhaps the Phantom had indeed dropped the backdrop upon La Carlotta before Hannibal, and not the careless stagehands. But if they didn't stop wobbling up there, they were sure to drop something on the unsuspecting ballet girls. Raoul casually moved onstage, his hands slipping into the pockets of his coat. He stuck to standing in the wings, muttering something to one of the male dancers about needing to stretch his legs.
The music was swelling and fluttering, and the girls seemed to flutter along with it. Raoul smiled a little towards Meg before looking back up. Two more stagehands came across the flies, and the boards began to sway from the weight of more men. They all seemed to bicker over the full bottle of alcohol, and the creaking of the boards above caught the attention of a few stagehands below who merely laughed at the men above.
Raoul assumed this was merely theater life. No one was bothered by all those men up above rehearsals laughing and drinking over the music and instructions of Madame Giry. Raoul didn't want any trouble. His eyes flickered above every so often, not wanting to see one of those men come tumbling to their death. What a horror for the ballet girls to see!
Raoul glanced at Meg, his shining blue eyes picking her out instantly. She paid no mind to anything else, even still. Even in the midst of the other girls, she stood out. Raoul smiled warmly at her, wanting to see her look towards him with those big brown eyes of her and that sweet dimpled smile. He sighed dreamily again, completely distracted by her graceful figure.
The trouble he didn't want had arrived though. One of the men kicked at a rope holding down a spare sandbag, which went sailing to the ground like a heavy rock. A few ballet girls noticed this and began to screech and shove each other out of the way. But it took Meg a moment to pull herself out of the music and dance to realize that the sandbag was dropping right over her head. She gasped, her hands flying to her head. She had no time to attempt to run away, for the sandbag was falling speedily.
Raoul instantly ran onstage and grabbed Meg, pulling her out of harms way. Everyone looked angrily up at the stagehands above. But Raoul just stared down at the tiny blonde wrapped in his arms. She was hugging him as tightly as she could despite her elaborate costume in the way. She was so tiny. Her head barely rested beneath Raoul's chin. He couldn't help but smile as he hugged her back just as tightly.
"Everything is alright, Meg." He murmured gently, savoring the feeling of her warm breaths on his neck, her soft hands wrapped around him. She lifted her head slowly, large dark eyes flickering across his face quickly. Her breathing was shaky, and he gave her a reassuring smile.
"You idiots! What if I had been on stage? You could have killed me! Stupid fools!" La Carlotta shrieked. In a way, the diva had a point. Being hit with a sandbag could put you out of the theater for an extended amount of time. It could do serious damage to a person. A stagehand had once died from being hit in the head with a heavy sandbag. Even if she was only looking out for herself, she had a point.
Meg looked up at Raoul, her lips parting as she attempted to form words. Nothing came out, despite her best efforts. She blushed bright red as she realized how closely he was holding her. She had never been held like this by a man before. Even through her elaborate costume, he was so very close. Meg swallowed hard and bit her lip out of nervous habit. It was so hard to focus on anything but his warmth. And his wonderful smell. Never before had she breathed in such a musk.
"Are you alright?" He asked gently, his gaze flickering over her in worry. She looked up at him blankly, her mind foggy from him being so close to her. All Meg could do was nod. Forming words was not an easy task.
"Meg! Oh, Meg!" Christine's voice suddenly cried as she ran across the stage.
Everyone around them was all in a tizzy and yelling up at the drunk stagehands. Buquet merely laughed at everyone, and Meg felt her skin crawl from the sound. He wouldn't have cared one bit if the sandbag had done damage to Meg or anyone else in the company. Stupid old drunk.
Raoul reluctantly released Meg as Christine hurried close. "Oh Meg, are you okay?" She instantly wrapped Meg in her thin arms, hugging her close. Meg just nodded, managing a slight smile for Christine when the brunette pulled away.
"I'm fine." Meg squeaked.
"How lucky were you that Raoul pushed you away in time!" Christine grinned at Raoul cheerily.
Raoul smiled at Christine before looking towards Meg. He gave both girls a little nod before lifting his gaze to the flies. He stepped away from the pair, and Christine moved to take Meg to her mother. Madame Giry touched Meg's cheek gently, noting the flush on her daughter's pale cheeks. She kissed her forehead and nodded slowly at her.
"You'd do better to pay attention next time, gentlemen. You could have seriously injured one of these girls." Raoul said firmly. Meg looked up at Buquet, frowning at the older man.
"Oh yes, Monsieur le Vicomte. We wouldn't want to damage your little harem, would we?" Buquet slurred, his voice mixing into a laugh. Everyone gasped at the audacity the old stagehand had. To speak to the Vicomte in a way was unthinkable.
"How dare you!" Raoul instantly went red, and he felt anger bubbling in his blood. "You ought to hold your tongue, you foul creature!"
Buquet had nothing to say to that. He just smirked at Raoul and bowed mockingly. Meg stepped away from her mother and Christine towards Raoul. She wanted to say something, anything. Her small hand reached out towards him, but he turned away from everyone and hurried offstage.
"I think we've had enough of rehearsals for one day everyone." Monsieur Firmin called out.
"We deeply apologize for the insolence of our staff. This will all be resolved in the morning. Mlle. Giry, our deepest apologies." Monsieur Andre said. Meg smiled and nodded at him. "Firmin, come. Perhaps we can still catch the Vicomte." Both managers hurried out of the theater after Raoul as fast as they could.
Madame Giry called all the ballet girls together and led them backstage to change. She had to get all the girls into their beds for the night. First, she had to be sure all the costumes were carefully removed and put away so as to be ready for the next day's performance.
"Are you alright, Meg?" Christine asked as she helped Meg by untying her costume.
"Yes, I'm fine." Meg murmured.
"That was a very brave thing your Vicomte did for you." Elena, one of the ballet girls called out.
Meg instantly turned bright red. "He's not...oh goodness...he's certainly not mine." Meg insisted in a hushed whisper.
Christine laughed softly. "He certainly jumps at every opportunity when you need rescuing." She whispered.
"Oh Christine!" Meg blushed instantly.
"He moved so quickly to you! Oh how romantic!" Another girl squealed.
"How lucky are you, little Meg! He's so handsome." Another sighed.
"Oh but he's not..." Meg started, looking over her shoulder at the other girls.
"How did he feel?" Elena asked with a sly grin.
"Excuse me?" Meg turned bright red.
"Yes, oh, he seems so strong!"
"Perhaps I shall pay the stagehands to drop something so the Vicomte can save me this time!"
"Oh you must scoop him up fast, Meg!"
"Enough, girls. We've all had enough excitement for one night. Get changed and ready for bed now." Madame Giry said sternly, banging her cane upon the ground. All the girls quieted down, thankfully.
"It really was quite romantic." Elena whispered, coming over to grin at Meg.
Meg looked up at the girl with a shy smile before finally nodding in agreement. Elena giggled and skipped away to find her nightgown. Christine finished up with Meg's costume and turned the small blonde around. Meg hugged the material to her chest as she looked up at her friend. "Raoul is a very sweet man, Meg." Christine murmured with a little laugh.
"Yes, indeed he is." Meg murmured, lifting her eyebrows in surprise.
"Perhaps you and he..." Christine tapped Meg on the nose, and Meg instantly turned bright red and shook her head.
"Oh Christine, you know that could never be." Meg stepped away to find her dress and change into it.
"And why not?"
"Because he's the Vicomte, and I'm...little Meg." Meg chuckled softly, shaking her head slowly.
"You never know!" Christine insisted, taking Meg's costume from her.
"I do know, actually." She murmured, quite tired of talking about it all.
Christine reached out and adjusted the collar of Meg's dress. "Have you considered the fact that he is your childhood sweetheart?"
Meg blanched and looked up at her friend. "Christine!" She exclaimed in a hushed whisper.
"It's true!"
"We both met him at the same time, so he must be yours also!" Meg mumbled, moving to sit and slip her pointe shoes off. She winced a little from the soreness in her feet, and she slowly wiggled her toes.
"Oh Meg, that's silly! It's not my shawl he saved." Christine giggled.
"It could have very well been your red scarf and not my blue shawl." Meg sighed, going to slip her boots on for the walk home. She undid her bunned up hair and ran her fingers through the golden curls.
"Well it wasn't. It was yours, Meg. I've seen the way he looks at you. He couldn't take his eyes off of you the entire time during rehearsals." Christine came over to her friend and smiled warmly. "I'm just saying, don't shoot him down so quickly just because of a silly thing like social class, alright?" In a very soft, almost motherly fashion, Christine brushed her fingers over Meg's jaw.
"Okay." Meg sighed, slowly getting to her feet. She brushed her fingers over her middle, shaking her head a little.
"I still need to change. Your mother and I will meet you in the lobby, alright?" Christine murmured.
"Do you want me to wait for you?" Meg asked softly.
She shook her head a little and smiled. "No...I...I am going to go light a candle for my father. It's been too long since I have." Christine's smile fell just slightly, and Meg stepped close to her friend.
"Will you be alright?" Meg asked in a hushed voice.
"Yes, of course. I'll be quick." Christine had a faraway look in her blue eyes. "I'll be safe. You needn't worry about me, Meg. Just don't leave without me." She smiled at Meg before turning away to change out of her costume.
Meg sighed, watching Christine move through the clumps of girls in the cramped dressing room. Hopefully Christine knew what she was doing. Meg knew the meetings that would happen in that little chapel. After learning all of this about the Phantom being Christine's Angel, Meg wanted to protect her friend. Obviously the Phantom wasn't going anywhere if he was sending notes and threatening the managers.
Meg bid everyone goodnight and slipped out of the dressing room. A few cast members were milling about the halls as they left for the night, though the majority of them were long gone. Meg headed out to the lobby and took a seat on the stairs. She liked to sit in the lobby sometimes. It was just so huge and beautiful, and a true work of art. Meg couldn't believe how privileged she was to come to a place as beautiful as this every day.
She hummed to herself and rested her elbows on her legs, cushioning her head in her palms. Her bed was calling her name. All she wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. Her humming was interrupted by a rather large yawn escaping her. Meg blushed and got to her feet. She couldn't fall asleep on the cold marble steps, and Christine and Madame Giry would arrive at any moment.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. Then twenty.
Meg was getting antsy. Most of the company had passed her by. All that was left were the ones who lived in the dormitories and the managers. Perhaps Raoul. Meg doubted he would stay much later. He had been so angry at Buquet.
Another ten minutes passed.
Meg sighed and decided she needed to just go find Christine or her mother. Madame Giry must have gotten tied up with getting the ballet girls into bed. And Christine...Meg just hoped Christine had gotten emotional while lighting a candle for her father, and not swept away again by a certain Opera Ghost.
She slipped through the wings, hoping she would bump into one or both of the ladies. The halls were always darker when no one was keeping the lamps going. Meg did not fear getting lost. She knew the theater better than she knew anywhere else in the world. But it's winding halls and dark shadowy caverns never failed to make her uneasy. All she wanted to do was find her mother and Christine and get home.
The further down the halls she got, she began to hear voices. Perhaps Christine had found Madame Giry and needed to speak to her. Or perhaps some of the company was still around. At least she wasn't alone. As she came closer, she recognized her mother's voice. Meg peeked around the wall to see if it was Christine with her mother. She could at least make out her mother's figure. But whoever she was speaking to was nearly shrouded in shadows. It was as if they actually were a shadow.
"I've had enough of him, Giry. I mean it this time." A deep voice murmured in response to something Madame Giry had said. "That filthy drunk has no place in my theater. His actions today only confirmed what I've always thought."
Meg pressed her tiny fingers to her lips, dark eyes going wide. She could have fainted away from the sound of that voice so clear and near to her. She swallowed hard and forced herself to remain calm and strong. He actually was there. The Phantom of the Opera. The Angel of Music. Erik!
"Erik, you must calm yourself. He's a fool. Let us merely send him away." Madame Giry responded.
"I'm surprised you said that. His drunken actions today nearly killed your own daughter. Do you not care?" Before Madame Giry could even respond, he continued on. "It's not your decision. I've had enough of him. The stories about me, the careless acts! It will not continue on."
"And what do you propose to do?" Madame Giry asked in a much too calm voice.
Meg listened intently, waiting for The Phantom's response. There was a deep sigh, and her mother made a clucking sound under her breath. "And here I thought you were past all that, Erik."
"I can never be 'past all that', Giry. There is no getting past...that." Erik sighed. "Buquet's mistakes today was the last straw. The managers may get their disaster if Christine is not in place of Carlotta tomorrow. They need to learn. This is not their place." A deep chuckle escaped him, chilling Meg to the bone. "It will take more than it did for Lefevre, that's for certain."
"Erik, don't be rash." Madame Giry urged. "It's not worth it."
"You know as well as I do that Christine deserves this role, that spotlight. She was born for the sunlight, the glory. And I made her that way, Giry. It was me who took care of her." His voice nearly shook with emotion. Meg furrowed her eyebrows. Did this man love Christine? Or was he obsessed with her? Meg didn't like the thought of either. She didn't like the thought of the ghost of scary stories being the one in love with Christine.
"And look how that all turned out." Madame Giry pointed out. "Christine needs the sunlight, Erik. Do you think threats and darkness will please her?"
Meg nodded in agreement, but didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. She didn't want to be caught by either person. Especially not him. She walked through the halls and into the theater, which would give her an easier way back into the lobby to wait for her mother and Christine.
Meg knew she had contributed to the stories of the Opera Ghost. But it had all been in girlish fun. Buquet always took the stories to the next level. He pushed the stories too far, scared the girls in ways Meg never could or wanted to. He was a disgusting old man who loved his bottle of whiskey far too much.
"Well, Little Meg!" Speak of the devil. "I didn't expect to see you onstage again. Not without your Vicomte around, anyway. Come, have a drink with an old man."
Meg cringed, but didn't stop to look for the source of the voice. She knew the stagehands always hung around the stage after everyone left for the night. She had just hoped to slip out of there without any of them noticing her. But of course, plans change.
"Good evening, Buquet. I cannot stay and chat. I must go meet Christine." She said smoothly. There was a sound of feet hitting the wood floor of the stage, and stumbled steps over to her. Meg looked over her shoulder and saw Buquet come walking towards her, ropes from the flies tangled around him.
"I do hope you forgive me for my accident today, Little Meg. I can be so terribly clumsy." He slurred.
"Of course. Accidents happen." She murmured, stepping off the stage. He followed close behind, and Meg gasped as his hand curled around her arm.
"How lucky of you that the Vicomte was there to save you, eh? He sure favors you. I can certainly see why. You've become such a lovely little thing. The Daae' girl too." He leered at her, and Meg nearly vomited from the stench of alcohol and uncleanliness that radiated off of him.
"Let go of me." Meg said firmly.
"I'm sure he'll have his fun with all you little ballet girls. Lucky boy. He's got a few more francs in his pockets and he gets all the ladies." Buquet sniffed Meg's hair, and Meg rolled her eyes.
"Oh shush, you old drunk!" She yanked her arm out of his grasp and glared at him. "You'll do best to hold your tongue, Buquet. Or you'll be fired."
"Well, don't you have some fire in you! All the quiet ones do." He had a disgusting smile on his lips, and his breath smelled terrible. "I'm not going anywhere, little Meg. I'll always be here."
"Even if the managers or the Vicomte keep you here, the Phantom may have other plans for you." Meg warned. And it was partially the truth after what she had just heard in the hall.
Buquet just let out a drunken laugh and leaned in close to Meg. "Oh yes, I'm so sure!"
"Perhaps it would be best if you stepped away from Miss Giry, Buquet." A voice said from behind Meg. She slowly turned around to find Raoul walking down the aisle towards them. He had his head held high and a stern look upon his face, looking every bit an aristocrat. She looked up at him, relieved someone had come to apprehend the drunk.
"Mm, indeed sir. She's a good girl. You'll have fun with this one. She's spirited." Buquet reached out to pat Meg's blonde curls. Before he even could, Raoul grabbed his wrist roughly and shook him away.
"That's enough. Goodnight." Raoul said firmly, fixing the old drunk with a glare. "Come, Meg." His voice grew gentle, and he held his arm out towards Meg without tearing his glare away from Buquet. Meg quickly stepped forward and slipped her hand through Raoul's arm. Her breath caught in her throat, but she let Raoul escort her out of the theater and into the lobby.
"You must grow tired of this." Meg couldn't help but laugh as they slowly walked across the elaborate marble floors.
"Pardon?" Raoul asked, dropping his softened blue gaze to Meg.
"Saving me. Coming in and being my white knight. It's shocking that you're even real." She murmured quietly, releasing his arm shyly.
Raoul couldn't help but laugh and take her hands in his. "I am every bit real, sweet Meg. See?" He gave her hands a little squeeze and she couldn't help but laugh. He grinned at her, and lifted her fingers to his lips. "You must realize that I am quite happy with being your white knight, should you want me." He murmured.
Meg felt butterflies enter her stomach at that statement, and she couldn't help but blush and look away from him shyly. Raoul watched her girlish motions with fascination, his thumbs smoothing over the backs of her tiny hands. "Thank you, Raoul."
"So you do, then?" He asked, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Meg quirked her eyebrow questioningly at him. "W-want me?"
Suddenly he was that shivering little boy on the beach, holding her mother's blue shawl out to her. When she met his gaze, something passed between them. Suddenly Meg's heart began to beat to the pattern of his own. Suddenly everything seemed different. She parted her lips to speak when footsteps on the steps behind them sounded.
"Oh Meg, so sorry we took ages. I had to help your mother and then I had to go light a candle and...oh Raoul! Hello." Christine babbled as she hurried down the stairs. She grinned a bright smile at the pair, and Meg blushed and released Raoul's hands upon realizing how close and intimate they seemed.
"It's alright, Christine. I'm patient." Meg murmured, unable to look at Raoul. She feared she would throw her arms around him and never let go. Flushing, she looked towards her mother.
"Yes, indeed you are. Come, let's get going. We've a long day tomorrow." Madame Giry murmured, somewhat tense about something. Meg bit her lower lip before nodding.
"Goodnight, Raoul." Meg murmured shyly, finally lifting her gaze to Raoul's handsome face.
"Goodnight, Meg." He reached out and grasped her fingers before kissing the back of her hand.
"Here, it's probably gotten cold out." Christine held out Meg's coat for her, and Meg had to let go of Raoul's fingers in order to put it on.
"Oh please tell me you ladies aren't walking home at such a late hour! Please, allow me to give you a ride home." Raoul insisted. He wasn't about to let three women walk the streets of Paris late at night. He had already apprehended one drunk and that was his limit for the day.
"Raoul, it's alright. We live right around the corner." Christine murmured with a smile.
"Nonsense, it's no trouble." Raoul insisted. "I cannot have three very important ladies out there at this hour. Plus, it is terribly cold out. It shall take no time at all."
"Thank you, Vicomte." Madame Giry nodded. "Lead the way."
Raoul grinned at the ballet mistress before reaching for Meg's hand and slipping it through his arm again. An instant red blush came across her cheeks, and Christine giggled at Meg's expression as Raoul tugged the small blonde along. Meg looked up at Raoul shyly, and he smiled down at her as he led her outside. She bit her lower lip as the cold breeze blew her golden curls out of her face. She shivered and grasped his arm tighter, ducking her head slightly into his warmth.
Christine and Madame Giry watched from behind with bemused expressions. They watched as Raoul led Meg to the carriage that had no doubt been waiting outside for quite some time. Madame Giry liked how gentlemanly the Vicomte had become. He was sweet and seemed to shine around her daughter. The fact that he had saved her life that evening was rather important also. She glanced behind her at the Opera House in all it's glory before looking towards Christine. Perhaps it was a good thing the Vicomte had most of Meg's focus. Madame Giry didn't feel as bad now, and she could focus on Christine and the problems she and Erik were facing.
At this thought, Madame Giry wrapped her arm around Christine as they headed towards the carriage. Christine smiled at the older woman and kissed her cheek sweetly before Raoul helped her up into the carriage. Madame Giry sent Raoul a look as he helped her in also. The young Vicomte just smiled and nodded his head in understanding at the older woman.
Meg looked around the beautiful carriage, her fingers smoothing over her dress in a nervous fashion. Her dress would be wrinkled from the amount of times she had clenched the fabric in her fingers. Christine's soft giggle as Raoul climbed up and sat beside the small blonde seemed to wake Meg, and she looked up quickly. Raoul gave her an easy smile as he turned into the small window to the driver to tell him where to go, thanks to Madame Giry's directions. Had her mother told him? She must have. Meg blushed a little and looked over at Raoul as he settled beside her and the carriage took off.
He engaged the ladies into a light conversation about the performance the next night. Christine and Madame Giry spoke easily to Raoul. Christine kept glancing at Meg, hoping she would pipe up and say something. But Meg was too focused on the little moments she and Raoul had had before Christine and her mother appeared. She didn't have much time to think about it really, since the boarding house was around the corner.
When the carriage stopped, the driver helped the ladies out of the carriage. Raoul followed once Meg had gotten out. Madame Giry and Christine bid the Vicomte goodnight and began to head inside. Meg followed closely, feeling rather too shy to say anything to the young Vicomte. She thought she could get away, get inside and get washed up. Perhaps she'd climb under her quilts and allow herself to get all fluttery and think about Raoul. Perhaps she would think about what to say the next night, how to answer his question.
But nothing was that easy.
Raoul's hand caught hers before she could get too far, and she turned to look up at him shyly. Both stared at each other for a moment, lips parted in yearning to say something. No words found Meg's tongue, except, "Goodnight, Raoul."
He widened his blue eyes a little from the quiver in her voice. "Goodnight, Meg." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, before covering her tiny hand with both of his. "I shall see you tomorrow. Perhaps we can finally enjoy a meal together like we've been wanting to." He murmured.
"Yes...perhaps." Meg smiled a little, her cheeks flushing. "Thank you again, Raoul. You saved my life today."
"It's worth saving." He murmured softly, which made Meg smile her dimpled smile he adored. "Sleep well, Meg." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before slowly releasing it. Meg smiled shyly at him before turning away towards her mother and Christine who waited on the porch. They had amused expressions on their faces, and Meg just brushed past them with a silly little grin on her face.
Alright, maybe she could allow herself to hope.
Just a little bit.