Hello! Thank you to everyone for the feedback. It means a lot to see some of you from the original story and to see some new people. I was supposed to update this tomorrow, but I don't think that I really can do it tomorrow. So I'll do it now. I hope you enjoy chapter two!
Chapter II: A Bothersome Charm
Dear Monsieur André and Monsieur Firmin,
Let me at first welcome you back to the Opera Populaire. I am hoping for a good season to follow after the fatal disaster our good Opera House has experienced six years ago, and though we are not going to have Ms. Christine Daae charming the audience with her voice, we do not have La Carlotta's voice splitting the ears of many people and breaking wine glasses in the theatre. Now, my orders are to be obeyed! My salary is past due six years and I would like Box 5 empty for my personal use this time. Your new soprano, Ms. Theresa Baccelli, is not up to par to our most recent soprano. For your production of Macbeth, I suggest having her either replaced with someone who can handle her part or do a lot of work on her before the coming performance in a couple of weeks. We do not want your comeback from nothing to be a disaster already. Maybe if she wasn't in the dark of this House's history, she would oblige with improving on her vocals. You haven't still obeyed any of my previous orders, so be warned, your chance is the last of three to make it all right.
I will remain here as your obedient servant still,
O.G.
"What history am I in the dark about?" She asked as André and Firmin took in the note, unsure of how to really take the note handed to them. Theresa didn't know who this O.G. was nor did she care. His opinion of her was not something that she let her mind dwell on normally, but who was he to say that about her? Where was this man, if he even was a man, to say it directly to her? She wouldn't be rude about it, she would take it gladly. He worked for the Opera Populaire, too, obviously since he had a salary, a box, and he called himself their... their... servant! Who did he think he was and why did he sign himself as O.G.?
He probably did have a name like any other person did in this world!
André noticeably gulped and Theresa pursed her lips, waiting for her answer. What exactly did she sign on when she had wanted to sing here? They actually looked genuinely frightened to her and though she might have only met them once or twice before, she had never pictured that frightened look on their faces. It was almost as if a sword's blade was shining toward them... ready to strike. Question after question roamed through her mind as each second passed between them in their office. Each question growing more and more in panic as well.
Firmin cleared his throat awkwardly and loosened the collar of his neck tie to answer her. He lied however, "There is a rumour that has been going on for a couple of years now of how our theatre was burnt down."
André looked at Firmin unsure if they should actually lie to their new Prima Donna. For one they really didn't know her to do so, and two Theresa seemed to have a lot more smarts to her than she let on. Something he noticed when he met her at first. But he didn't dare hide his uncertainty, knowing that this would turn the wrong way for them if he had. He added onto where his colleague was going anyway, "Many think that there is a ghost, an apparition, that roams through here." Theresa raised her eyebrow, an apparition? "Only a rumour though."
"A rumour?" She repeated in disbelief, why would someone send a note under a rumour? Did they really think they could pull this over her?
"Yes, a rumour!" Firmin confirmed, "He is even said to be the blame for the fire, many a people thought they saw him actually in the show with Christine Daae, but no, he was only a hallucination to those there." Theresa's expression remained unchanging and hard as a stone. She had barely even heard of what happened to cause the Opera Populaire to close. She knew there was a fire, but she didn't really know how it happened.
When Theresa didn't respond to him, Firmin added to her, "It was all an... an... accident, mademoiselle! An accident, this Phantom is not at all real, just a bedtime story to tell the workers here to make them focus, that's all." She eyed them carefully, not thinking that they were right for a minute. It didn't at all pass through her head that they were telling the truth.
The stammering of Monsieur Firmin didn't help that fact of the matter as well. She inquired sceptically to them both, "And why exactly would someone send a letter under O.G.? Which I assume stands for... Opera Ghost?"
André answered this quicker than one should be when replying, "A joke, mademoiselle. There are no such things as ghosts and phantoms." Theresa narrowed her eyes at her and knew that they weren't going to break down and tell her the truth of who this... ghost may be. She sighed deeply and looked around the office to see that it was almost night. She wanted to give them the note the moment she had abruptly left rehearsal to see them, but the seamstress, Harriet, caught her right outside the theatre to get to her fitting. It took longer than expected and how tight the dress was on her was proven with the marks from the corset on her back. The costume was actually to be done tomorrow and she had to go to pose for a poster in the morning.
She didn't think that there was going to be the baggage of jokes and a dark history involved with this at all when she said she would do it. Theresa shook her head, feeling her chest tighten, nor did she think that she was already going to be lied to to stay in the Opera Populaire. "I do not know now if this is the right place for me, monsieur," She started to them in almost a mumble. Their faces dropped, what was that supposed to mean? Theresa took a step back from their desk and told them both, "I doubt someone would joke about that, so if you excuse me, I'll be leaving now." She turned on her heel and headed for the door.
Firmin thought very quickly, "Wait, Signora!"
Theresa stopped as the two men stepped on either side of her immediately, she looked over at Firmin who actually turned her around to look at the mirror in front of them. "Look there," he said to her. André moved her chin up to make her get a better look at herself. She took in a breath through her nose. "What do you see there, signora?"
Theresa had no idea what they were doing with her, but she replied shortly, "Me."
André nodded, but he pointed to her hazel eyes with a slight admiration of them, "And you know what we see?" Theresa shook her head no slowly, she didn't even think that she actually wanted to know at all. "In those eyes we see a determination that only the greats would have on rare occasion." She furrowed them down onto the ground and tried not to flush at that, she was told that before, believe it or not. Her mother had told her that before she actually died. In fact, Theresa remembered it clearly, "La determinazione nei tuoi occhi si vergogna a mettere gli altri in fretta."
"Those eyes could definitely be ones that could scorn those that are doubtful of them, I trust," Firman stated confidently, grinning at Theresa confidently as well. He could see the gears working in her head at the moment. He added to her, "Even if the Opera Ghost was real and he had actually said those words about you in his letter then don't you think that you must prove him wrong? To show him that you truly are the daughter of the late and great Amelia Baccelli of Venice, who actually taught you all that you know?"
She corrected her mother's name with a small chuckle, "Her name was actually Angelina."
André glared over at Firmin for getting her mother's name wrong, though they had to agree that they really never heard of her mother, being from France and not Italy. Theresa looked back in the mirror with a small smile on her face. He added, "Your mother is probably smiling from above at you for following her grandest footsteps. Shouldn't that be incentive enough to...?"
"To prove this ghost—if he's real of course—wrong?" Firmin finished, finally recovering from that brief moment before. "We saw great potential from you the day you have came to us and we are going to continue with seeing your potential to be great from you in the coming seasons," Theresa tried so hard to see that, but she highly doubted it. "I think that, you can prove him wrong so easily if you keep that determined look in your eye that Monsieur André and I see right now through this mirror."
She asked them in disbelief still, but she was still smiling, "Really?"
André answered with a nod, "Oui, but the only obstacle that lies between you and that, is yourself." Her smile fell into a fine line as he added to her, "We think that the public will love you, with the emotions you sing with, your beauty! But how will the public love you if we don't even introduce them to you?" That was a good point. Theresa sighed, giving in a little bit, but not letting them see the truth in her eyes that she would be watching for this so-called 'ghost' to appear. She actually might ask a couple of people about the Phantom of the Opera that have worked here before.
Firmin held out his hand to her for her to grab and shake as a way of accepting this. Theresa stared down at it pointedly as he told her, "The only thing that we need to ask is, will you stay and sing for us?" She bit her bottom lip and held up her hand to take it reluctantly and slowly, hoping that something could assuage her, but nothing came and she shook it ready and determined for anything. Firmin led her away from the mirror to the door. "Now, you should go to your room and get some rest, we have a big day tomorrow, mademoiselle."
"And we want you to look your best, Theresa," André told her from behind as Firmin opened the door for to go through.
Theresa nodded and looked behind her shoulder, stating, "Thank you for clearing that up for me." The two mangers smiled nervously and watched Theresa go away from them and to her room. Their smiles soon fell though when she was out of their sights. The Phantom was back to play, but hopefully he wouldn't be as long as the two managers kept everything all well.
They looked at each other, highly doubting that, since from their experience they knew something, and at least something, would happen that would make the well balance shift only a little. The two closed themselves in their office, to get their stuff together to leave there and go home for the day.
Theresa walked down the grand staircase, which was still well-lit with candles. She didn't find herself fairly tired, in fact it was only the beginning of night, she found herself fairly hungry though. She sighed, though hungry she really didn't feel like eating. Theresa looked around as she made her way to her room and flashed a small smile smelling the roses and other flowers around the lobby. She stopped at the bottom of the staircase, feeling someone behind her. She glanced behind her shoulder for a moment, only to see that no one was there and then she shrugged it off as her imagination. You're just being paranoid, Theresa, she told herself, and then she continued to go to her room.
In her head, she was going over lyrics to the songs of Macbeth, remembering how Monsieur Reyer would actually conduct it to the orchestra precisely. She was going to show this phantom, whether if he was real or not, that she was here to stay and be loved by the public, just like her mother imagined and trained her to be. She would make it her life mission to... to try and make her happy. Who was she kidding? Her mother probably agreed with this so-called 'phantom' and was probably scowling at her because of his criticism.
The way to her room wasn't far, she stopped at the door and heard the footsteps sounding around her. Still, Theresa thought that those were also a part of her imagination. She ignored them, turning the knob slowly to open her door.
Theresa stopped herself when she felt a tap on her shoulder, jumping with a small gasp escaping her throat. Before turning around she heard several laughs behind her and she inhaled slowly and tremblingly as she turned on her heel to see who frightened her. "Someone's jumpy today."
She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled at him despite of it. Theresa countered to Henri, "And so would anyone else when someone would creep up behind them. It's actually a normal reaction that a person would have after." She turned away from him and to her door to open it again, but he leaned onto the frame with his arms folded in front of his chest. The grin on his face was crooked and his eyes held a bit of mirth as they locked with hers.
"Really?" He questioned her curiously, "I thought that you are a far from normal type of person."
Theresa chuckled lightly and opened her door to finally go into her room to settle in. She stated to him sarcastically, "What a compliment." Theresa walked into her room and found it to start getting dark. She sighed walking over to a candle and lighting a match to light at least maybe one. How little did she know that Henri would actually follow her in. Paying no mind to him, she lit the few candles on her vanity.
His voice came again, making her jump, "I did mean that as a compliment though." He smiled seeing her shoulders once again go up and down in a flash, she really was a jumpy woman, wasn't she? Theresa looked into the mirror to see him standing there with his bluish-grey eyes dazzling with a certain charm. The way he was looking at her almost made her flush again for maybe the fifth time that day, but Theresa gotten a hold of herself before she could.
"You did?" He nodded at the mirror, making Theresa turn around to face him. "I do not think that we know each other that well enough to even give such compliments like that, Monsieur D'Aubigne."
He took a confident step forward, his smile growing hearing that. "Then I suggest that now is the chance to get to know each other well enough." She hummed faking her consideration, she wanted to stay in here, maybe read a book and practice. "Dinner, you and me, now. What do you say?"
"A bit forward you are, don't you think?" She inquired to him laughing.
"Only if you want me to be." He retorted to her. Theresa glanced at him behind her shoulder as she walked over to her closet, taking her nightgown out for her to wear when he would leave. Henri eyed her carefully, "I think it is important to know my co-star very well before our performance. I do not want you to be thought up as by me as the woman who could be beautiful while singing like she is the Devil's child on stage." She glared at him while walking away to flatten her gown onto her bed. He continued to her in a flirty tone, "I saw evil in your eyes today and I have to say when my character is supposed to be a little frightened by you... I'm actually intrigued by you, mademoiselle."
Theresa's attempted restraint on blushing actually became harder and a deep pink settled on her high cheekbones. She quickly tried to hide it by busying herself with, well... something. She only stalked off to her bookcase that she only just unpacked to pretend to be picking a book. She gulped nervously, but snickered to him, "That is a problem, monsieur," Henri raised his eyebrow as she continued, "that isn't the normal way someone, even not acting, should feel after seeing that."
He closed the open door. "Call me Henri for now on, signora." He insisted, taking several steps forward before sitting nonchalantly on her bed like he was supposed to be there. Theresa looked up from her books and soon nodded shortly to him with a small smile, then she went back to her books, to pretend again like she was going to choose one. She even picked several up to check them to see if they were interesting. He questioned her, "And don't you think that it's funny that you say 'monsieur' and 'madame' and maybe a 'oui' here and there, when you're Italian and not French at all?"
She sighed, replying to him, "You know what we say, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do.'"
"Ah, very true." Henri moved away from the door and stood close to her. His eyes narrowing slightly to see all the books that she had gathered there. He chuckled lightly and shook his head before questioning to her jokingly, "I see, you'd rather stay here and read instead of being with me?" Does he ever stop talking? Theresa asked herself.
Theresa smirked up at him and took the topmost book without even realizing what it was when she picked up. "How did you even guess, monsieur?"
"A lucky guess and once again, my name's Henri. And I would like you to call me by it," Henri corrected her. Theresa eyed him carefully before she nodded to him slowly. She took her book under her arm and was almost expecting him to leave. But he lingered over her bed as she crossed to sit in the red velvet covered chair that was close to her vanity. It provided just enough light to start her reading for the night. "So, Theresa, what has brought you to the lovely city of Paris?" Theresa briefly looked up before opening the book in her hand.
She asked him instead of answering his question, "You are still here? Do you not have anything better to do than bother me?"
Henri laughed lightly at her question and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against her bed post. He shrugged his shoulders at that, "I think this is important to do, my lady. If you are being bothered by me though, then I will leave. But just because a lady like yourself is in distress because of my presence is hardly what I would want."
"You never stop talking, do you?" Theresa asked him amused, putting aside her book. She chuckled softly once she noticed Henri shake his head no. She thought as much. Having a feeling in the pit of her stomach that what he said was partly not true, she knew that he would never be out of her room unless she did talk with him. She took a deep sigh before she answered his question, "I've heard of Paris a lot from the many locals in Italy and I wanted to see it for myself. So I gathered up my money and my things and then took the train to here."
The corner of Henri's lip twitched up and he pulled a chair from the table in the corner. He sat down on top of it, crossing his legs. "And how are you liking it so far? Personally, I think the standards in Italy are far better than the ones set forth here."
"Italy has its perks, but I feel it is definitely better," Theresa answered him, a smile forming on her face as she folded her hands on her lap. She admitted to him, "The memories in Italy aren't here..." Her eyes lowered to her folded hands on her lap, a frown was starting to make its way onto her face. It was true that a lot of memories plagued her as she walked the last year in Italy. She felt very empty since her mother had passed in her sleep. Her father died at a young age of hers as well and the two were even closer than most would expect.
Henri raised his eyebrow at that, evidently showing that he was confused by that comment. He asked her, "Memories... and what sort of memories are those?" Theresa slowly raised her eyes to his and she realized what she had just said. She didn't even realize what she had mentioned to him once she did. Henri dropped his smirk and stated to her, "You don't have to tell me. I don't want to pry when I'm only a mere stranger to you."
"No... no it is okay," she said to him softly. "You're going to find out anyway soon enough, so why not tell you now?" Theresa grinned at him and Henri exchanged one back with her. He had to admit, he was really starting to like her and he only just met this woman. Something about her... he couldn't pinpoint what it really was, but he felt comfortable around her. Theresa was a beautiful woman as well, and usually he had no problem into talking to beautiful women like she. But she wasn't difficult (well, to what his definition of difficult really was anyway) like many others. "Plus we really shouldn't be all that much of strangers, should we? We have been performing next to each other for several weeks."
Henri tilted his head up at her curiously. He didn't even think of that. The grin on his face grew and he nodded to her approvingly, "Touché."
"But," Theresa started to him, holding her finger up. Henri's grin almost faltered once he heard the 'but.' That was usually never a good thing in his book. She continued, "It is only fair that you share something personal with me in exchange."
For some reason, her request was not as bad as Henri thought it would be. He gawked at her for a moment, but then he realized that the request was a bit difficult for him. So maybe it was as bad as it seemed since he wasn't really an open person like she seemed to be. In fact, Henri had never really been asked in his life about something personal. So it was definitely something new for him. But... he considered it and soon he noticed Theresa extend her hand out to him to actually shake on it. Henri pressed his lips together and then shook her hand with his. "I believe we have a deal, Theresa."
Theresa took note of the way his hand felt on hers. They were smooth and the grip that he had on hers was firm and tight. For some reason, it gave her chills. Why? She had no idea. Theresa smiled softly at him once she took her hand back. But she had no idea how to start the bad memories that were even in Italy. The memories that she really wanted to get away from. She took a deep sigh and closed her eyes for a moment. She thought it was a good idea to start with her father in Venice and then go on from there. "Well... my family and I used to live in Venice when my father was alive. I was very close to him and he died when I was around twelve. He taught me how to play piano and... he used to take me to all of my mother's performances whenever she did one.
"When he died, I was with my mother and things were changing too fast for me and she moved me to Naples where she was originally from... away from there. And she retired from her own opera career to actually train me." For a moment, Theresa moved her eyes away from Henri's as she felt a small frown develop.
Henri's face softened a bit, almost seeing that sadness in her eyes then. Even the small frown beginning to show on her face actually threw him off a little. He asked her, although he was actually a bit reluctant with it, "And what of your mother?"
Theresa looked up at him. Her mother she never really talked about with other people, usually. For some reason, not many people asked her about her mother. "Died a year ago... in her sleep. She was sick for a year, though. All she did was lay in bed miserably, wouldn't get up at all. So I had to take care of her until then. I think it was something with my father though that she didn't want to get up..." the last sentence nothing but a mumble really to herself. She always wondered that that year when she died. If she had grown tired of spending her days with Theresa. Theresa and her mother were never really that close like her and her father were. So... Theresa somewhat always thought that loneliness could have been the cause of death as well.
Henri sighed and nodded understandingly. Henri had a feeling that it was now his turn. So he confided in her, taking a breath before doing so. "My mother hadn't died, she's still alive, actually. My father had died six years ago," he looked around Theresa's room, noticing that her room was painted a pale yellow instead of the usual dark colour that he would see in other rooms. It was brighter than most and it was refreshing to see a place in France without any dark colours splashing against each other. He looked back at her, "In fact, he died two weeks... after I had actually met him. He worked here... in the Opera Populaire." Her eyes widened when she heard that he had worked here.
She settled down a bit and she asked him, "You only met him two weeks before?"
He nodded, "Yes, my father left my mother and I flat with little to no money," a sneer came from him as he looked over to the side. His smile being wiped off. Theresa took his hand within hers, actually a little worried hearing that angry tone, she felt a bit compassionate for him. Henri continued, looking back at her, "I hated him since the day I was born, and I told my mother that when I would find him I would kill him for what he had done to us. The bastard almost sent us into poverty if my mother hadn't married someone that would actually happen to have a couple of a lot of francs on him, I don't think we would have survived." He gave a small nod to the side like something was implied that Theresa didn't seem to catch right away.
"How did he die?" She asked curiously, receiving a look from Henri that made her seem that he didn't want to tell her. That was going over the borderline for him now. Even the facts about his real father was about to cross the borderline for him. She shook her head, and waved her other hand, "You don't have to tell me, I'm just curious. That's all."
He sighed and answered, "It's okay, mademoiselle. It's just the fact is, is that... I don't really know."
"Theresa," she corrected with a sly smile, "I'm not going to call you Henri if you're not going to call me Theresa."
Henri chuckled sadly and nodded, "Yes, Theresa, funny, I call you by your name every other time but this one, my apologies."
"No need to apologize," she told him, she had forgotten about her problems once she had heard his, "but I rather think that more funny rather than me speaking French even though I'm hardly French."
His smirk came again after he had frowned for what seemed to Theresa to be forever. He shook his head no, "My lady, with your accent and the French tongue coming out of your mouth, I'm afraid to say that nothing could be more funny than that. Sorry to inform the truth to you, but the truth is viciously true."
Theresa laughed, putting a fallen hair behind her ear. After that, they just sat there in a comfortable silence, only looking at each other up and down. Henri's eyes roamed her body to find that she was actually thin, there were a few curves here and there, but she was definitely thin. Or it might have been the corset that she was wearing under dress that was making her look thin... He couldn't decide. He also noticed that she wasn't pale like most women in France were, she had an olive tone to show that she was Mediterranean. Henri thought that it made her seem more alive and vibrant.
Her voice distracted him away from her and he found himself looking deeply, but innocently into her hazel eyes like he wasn't looking at her like he was before. She told him, "I would think that you would've left already, Henri."
His smirk only grew and he leaned to her, stating, "I would've, but I am still waiting on my answer to my offer before, Theresa. You're not getting rid of me if I don't have one, I'm afraid." Oh, she almost forgotten about the offer of dinner before. He felt someone holding his hand still and his eyes looked down to see that it was her. His smirk could've fell into a smile, but she soon let go of him and tapped him on the shoulder to get up as she did. He knitted his eyebrows confused on why, but a thought ran through his head that she was actually accepting it. He smiled broadly and inquired getting up, "Ay?"
She shook her head and led him to the door, "Nay."
His face fell as he let himself be led to her door by her. He stopped abruptly and turned to her puzzled by her answer. It was surely something that he wasn't at all expecting. "Nay?"
Theresa nodded and reached around him to open the door. She asked him, "Would you like me to say no to be even more clearer?"
"But I thought I was getting somewhere with you," he insisted even more forwardly than before. Theresa could've sworn that he was actually pouting as he turned to her. "It's not like we're going out to eat, if you don't want to of course, but we could just eat the dinner they make here. I am sure that you hadn't eaten yet, Theresa. That's not healthy, supper should be in your stomach before you turn in for the night, which is probably what you are going to do anyway... after you've read your boring book, of course." He gestured toward the nightgown on her bed that she had taken out before.
Theresa chuckled and told him, "Pouting is not a good look on you."
He retorted quickly with his hand on the door, "I've been told it is." The man was clever and witty to the point of him actually being charming toward her. Theresa could admit that if she didn't have the intention of practising, reading, and soon going to the chapelle like she would do every night, late at night, she would have given into him. The amusement showed on her face when she smiled at him sweetly.
"Well, you've been told wrong," she told him, trying to open the door further and push him out, but his hand and him were heavily in the way. She narrowed her eyes at him.
He stated to her, "I really thought that we made a connection tonight for our first real conversation."
Theresa chuckled, "Well, we have plenty of time for real conversation and tonight wouldn't be our last, not to worry. But no dinner right now, I'm tired."
"Though, it should be my duty to not let you go to bed with an empty stomach, shouldn't it?" He asked to her. Theresa sighed, he really wasn't going to back down, was he?
She shook her head, "Another time, Henri. I promise that I'll go to supper with you another time, not tonight, just another time. And..." she trailed off thinking of something that would make him be on the same page as her. Theresa thought of it and continued, "you can even surprise me with the day, no matter what time it is. How's that?"
Henri narrowed his eyes at her but his smile made his way back, sending Theresa's heart to actually flutter. He extended his hand to her for her to take. She looked down at it pointedly, "Let's shake on that then. To make it official, I mean." Theresa sighed, looking up into his eyes uncertain if she should actually shake it. Even though it was her idea, she hoped that he would at least forget about it the next day. "Shake it," he insisted, "I don't bite, my lady."
She closed her eyes and shook his hand, before she actually felt him lifting up his hand with hers in it still and then laying a gentle kiss on the top of her knuckles. Theresa was actually shocked that he even did this and she felt the tingle from his lips on her hand even when he moved it back. He kept a good hold on her which she hardly even noticed and was soon standing in the doorway, looking at her shocked expression with amusement. "You owe me several dances tomorrow, I feel." He stated. Theresa was so baffled and speechless that she didn't know anything to do other than nod to him. "Many, actually." Henri didn't realize that they were still holding hands as well and she was standing there dazed in disbelief.
He leaned in again and asked, "You want to know a secret?"
Theresa gulped and shook herself mentally to get a grip of herself. Why am I acting like this? She thought to herself. Theresa soon nodded to him again, but then quickly stated, "It depends on the secret..."
His smirk grew, "I find it strange that it was very easy to tell you what I just told you in there."
She smiled at him with her hazel eyes smiling as well. She told him without any thought at all, "That is indeed strange, but you know what is stranger? I think I find it strange that it was easy to talk to you, too."
He chuckled, still holding onto her hand. "I'll see you around."
Theresa nodded quickly, "Of course." They stood there, looking into each others eyes, with their hands being held still. Theresa hadn't at all realized it, searching the swirls of grey and blue that churned in them.
Henri told her after a long moment, "If you do not want dinner now, I suggest that you let go of my hand before I just drag you out of your room myself."
Theresa knitted her eyebrows at him confused and looked down at their hands that were still holding onto each other, not really wanting to let go either. She stopped her eyes going wide, but she took her hand away from him immediately and backed up into her room, with the door knob in her hand. An exceeding look of triumph and cockiness stroked Henri's eyes as he saw the look on her face. She breathed in and nodded her head, "I can't let that happen, now can I?"
He shook his head, "No you cannot, there wouldn't be any element of surprise there if you do, which is less fun for me. I hate to admit."
"And... I would hate to spoil that fun for you."
Henri pursed his lips and bowed his head with a wink of his eye. He told her, "I never said the fun would be spoiled. I will see you tomorrow, my lady."
"That you will," she told him. Theresa closed the door when Henri walked away from her and she stood there... staring at the wood of the door. It took her a moment before she had turned on her heel to take her nightgown off the bed and go behind her screen to change. She went behind the screen to get changed and slipped out of her dress and untied her corset herself. His name lingered in her mind for a long moment and she smiled as if she was seeing his face once again in front of her.
He was handsome, she had to admit. A bit cocky, but sweet. He was a flirt, too, and he did charm her, she hated admitting that. Theresa was letting this go to her head, she knew what the other women had said about him, thinking the same as her. Including her friend, Meg, too. She thought she was different from them, though he did treat them all the same, but she was confident that she was different than them... She played with the cross around her neck while looking in front of her still charmed by him and when she was about to go to her bookcase, she looked up at the mirror at the end of the room.
Her smile fell as her eyes narrowed on something strange about it.
There was a strange black gap there that separated the gold embroidered frame and the reflection of her room. She looked around her curiously and took slow steps toward it like it was calling to her. Theresa's hands were folded in front of her as she picked up her white robe and wore it around her. Her and her reflection were now inches away and she looked through the black gap, looking into it only to see darkness there. It was almost like a sliding door. Her fingers curled on the edge of the mirror to move it shut, rather than open.
Although her mind was curious about it, she didn't want to dwell on it. Another day she would definitely have the courage to, but now she didn't. However, she did leave it open a crack, just enough for it to be reopened again.
I didn't change too much, but I did extend the part with Henri a little more and made it a little bit more natural than it was. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! By the way, this story would be updated every other Sunday usually. It's just easier for me since I am very busy and I will probably get more chapters done this way as well. I did make a little schedule for all of my stories and I that can be found on my profile. :)
Also, for sneak peeks to chapters and for the OC bios and statuses on not only this story, but other stories of mine, I have a Facebook page for. The link to it is on my profile if you are interested.
Well, anyway, thank you for reading and I will see you next time! :)
~Why Fireflies Flash