So because I took a day off from school today before the winter break, I decided to take the time to edit this chapter and update this story today! Thank you to the feedback I've received, it always makes me smile to see people reading the revised story! :) Hope you all enjoy the chapter and I hope you have a good holiday!

Chapter IX: Midnight Wanderers

"Now, tell me, signora," Theresa looked up from her glass of wine to see Edmond talking with her. The tension seemed to intensify in the air between the four people. Or rather... three people, Henri still wore a pout as he looked in his glass of wine, wishing that it was something stronger. They all had been silent until this point. From the carriage ride to the restaurant, and now until they ordered their food, they had been silent. Jeanine and Theresa were across each other, unsure of how to take this silence any longer. The tension was starting to get too much as well. She sipped before he continued, putting it down on the white table cloth. He continued, "Why leave a beautiful country like Italy to go to France?"

"Father," Henri warned, he knew the reason of why he was prying. Theresa looked over at him abruptly. "That's a bit personal, don't you think?"

Edmond laughed loudly as he took a drink out of his own glass. He got something stronger than wine, scotch, Theresa believed. Henri wanted a drink of that sort, too, but Edmond objected to that when they ordered. He stated, "I'm only starting conversation with her, son," every time he would say 'son' Henri gritted his teeth like he was insulted by it. "I'm making more conversation than you are."

Henri rolled his eyes, going for his wine while muttering, "Well, I would be if you weren't—."

Theresa nudged his arm, "Henri, stop it." Now, also, she was getting tired of his remarks to them. The night wasn't going to go well at all. Her and Henri both felt it the moment they took a step in that carriage. She looked to Edmond who seemed to have an amused glint in his eye, "Well, my father died when I was younger and my mother trained me to sing before she died eleven years later. I needed to get away from Italy, I had no close family around me and I wanted to just get away from there for a while."

"Ah, I see," Edmond hummed, taking another drink out of his scotch. "Would you ever go back to Italy, Signora?"

Theresa thought for a moment before she answered. She really never thought anything about that. "Maybe when the time is right. It is my home country—well, where I am from—so I should go back to Italy sometime."

He then went to inquire, "Now, your parents." Theresa didn't know what was going to come out of the man's mouth, but he only asked one question and it seemed like she was being interrogated! "What did they do for a living?"

"Now, that's a little bit bold, father." Henri stated to him.

Edmond only shrugged after his rude question. "It's her decision to answer it, if it's too bold for her to answer then she doesn't have to answer. Henri, am I to suspect that you answer for the girl now? Your mind is not hers, boy." Theresa looked over at Henri before reaching for his hand underneath the table. When she found it, she gripped it gently within hers, earning from him a questionable gaze at her.

Theresa ignored it and answered his father. Though the question was bold, she was going to answer it anyway. "Well, both my father and my mother worked as musicians. My father was a pianist, a talented one at that, and my mother was a Prima Dona herself in Venice. After my father, died we moved to Naples."

"Ah, interesting. Do you know how to play the piano?" Theresa nodded slowly. She didn't think it was a hard instrument if you had a sense of notes and melodies. Theresa played with one hand for the longest time, not knowing the chords well enough to even try to play them along with the melodies. He chuckled lightly, "Now, tell me which do you like better, singing or piano? I'm sure your parents must have had a war with your talents, mademoiselle."

Theresa chuckled back, but she felt her chest grow tight as her body became more stiff. She didn't want to dwell on this subject for long. "I like them both equally. As you know I sing most of the time, but I have more urges to play also and I don't usually do that. And you're right. They did have a war."

"Well, it is always good to hear that someone keeps to the business their family embarks first on," he looked over at Henri as Henri's face fell. He squeezed Theresa's hand tighter when those words escaped from his step-father's mouth. Henri didn't look comfortable now being across from Edmond's scathing glare. However, he still wore a grin. Edmond went to his drink once again, Jeanine still not saying a word, but her eyes watched him cautiously as he took another sip out of his scotch. He then asked him, like he would know all about this topic, "Isn't it, Henri?"

Henri gritted his teeth, his body becoming more stiff as he straightened his back. He couldn't wait for this dinner to be over. He answered curtly, "Of course."

"Oh, but you wouldn't know any of that," Edmond stated to him like he didn't answer him before. Theresa could feel the tension thicken and her face fell as she went to take a sip out of her wine. A careful sip. She was about to down every bit of the drink down her throat since she knew she was going to need it. Edmond explained to her, "I wanted Henri to go into the trading business that have been in my family for generations. How we gotten our wealth over the past years. He would have had to, I only have two other daughters and a very incompetent brother.

"But... instead, he thought that parading with performers," he sent a nasty glare to Henri before continuing, "was better. Despite what I kept telling him."

Theresa was stunned, she didn't know what to say at all. Speechless, she locked eyes with Jeanine who sat across from her. Jeanine still didn't say a word, she looked away from Theresa and didn't at all look in her son's direction. Henri took a long moment, the air was suddenly thick and it filled every inch between the four people with an uncertain tension. Then a waiter came carrying a tray with four meals. Henri looked over at him with a fake smile. He secretly thanked the waiter for his timing. Awkwardly he said, "Oh, great, food."

Theresa flashed a fake smile seeing her petite plate of food being placed in front of her. She smelled the aroma of the roasted chicken fill her nose pleasantly. Just a little more before you could go home, she told herself. Theresa almost smiled, but the fact of what was said just before bothered her a great deal. She looked to Henri, she didn't know if it was a great idea, but since his mother wasn't doing anything she thought that she might as well.

Theresa stated, trying not to show her reluctance, "Well, Henri and I have worked together for two months, at the very least. And we hadn't talked since a month ago, but I assure you, Monsieur D'Aubigne, he is also incompetent. Trust me, he would never make a good owner of a trading company. He would mess it up right away!" Henri looked over at her in disbelief. Where was she going with this?

Theresa added, ignoring his look, "I think he made a splendid choice. You should be proud that he's not at a street corner. Although, I am sure that I would've done music if my mother's death hadn't happened, it was, and still is, what I wanted to do, but... Henri is a different case. And he's talented, too. It shows in his voice and he is a terrific dancer. So, he made the right choice, not the wrong." Henri's lips pulled into a smirk as she squeezed his hand more tighter than he had before. Theresa didn't look back at him as Edmond gawked at her.

Theresa took a small sip out of her wine. Jeanine looked over at Theresa and Henri, she finally said the first few words when she realized that Henri was eating with his left hand. "Henri, dear, I thought you were right-handed? Why are you eating with your left hand?"

Henri's eyebrows raised for a moment, looking back at his mother confused. Then he looked down at Theresa's hand and his that were still held between them. He didn't want to let go for a single moment. But he did, chuckling, "Oh, silly me," there was the Henri that Theresa knew, he came back. Theresa tried not to laugh as she brought her hand back to her side. "Thank you for reminding me of that, mother, I forgot for a moment."

Theresa brought down her glass of wine and then picked up both her knife and fork to get ready to eat. Then she realized that Edmond hadn't looked at nor touched his food yet. Theresa gave a crooked grin, gesturing over to Edmond, "Now, Monsieur D'Aubigne, shall we eat? I am curious about the business that Henri hadn't taken part in that you decide to bring up. So, please. Do tell."

"Did you see his face?" Henri laughed loudly as they approached the Prima Donna's room. Theresa hadn't stopped smiling since she entered the building. How Edmond acted after she had defended Henri was priceless! Dinner wasn't as grueling any more and she swore he must have gone through four glasses of scotch since they all started eating. Theresa nodded, trying not to laugh through her close-mouthed smile. Henri shook his head in disbelief and continued excitedly, "He was beyond insulted like you just spat on him! It was great!"

Theresa stated to him, fumbling in her small purse for her key, "He would have warranted it. I don't think I've ever met such an infuriating man. I thought you were infuriating and arrogant, but Dio mio! He's worse!"

"I know. Tell me about it, I lived with that thing," said Henri, leaning against the frame of the door. Then he caught something that she had said before, a dismayed expression showing. "Wait, you think that I'm infuriating and arrogant?" Theresa chuckled nodding. He feigned a gasp, "My life mission is complete. Making a beautiful woman like you, my lady, think that I am infuriating. I like the sound of that. I'm taking it as a compliment."

Theresa finally took out her key and then she put it into the lock. "Of course you would," started Theresa. As she went to turn the doorknob, she felt a hand go over hers to help her. Theresa gulped, looking over at him in disbelief. She stated to him, "I am not five, monsieur, I believe I can unlock the door by myself."

"I doubt that your small mind can comprehend turning it then," he retorted, his suggestive tone making it to Theresa's ears. She smirked, when she first met him she would've fell so easily by this ploy, but now, she felt herself educated in the ways of Henri D'Aubigne.

Theresa looked down for a moment, her smirk falling. "You know what?"

"What?"

"As surprising as it might sound," Theresa started, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She slowly looked up at him, taking the actress side in her suddenly. Her lips slowly curved into a lopsided grin as she stated to him in fake excitement, "My small mind actually can comprehend turning the small round thing that is called a doorknob. Wow," she looked at it in disbelief then back at his narrowing eyes, "any housewife, maid, and lady, will look up to me like I'm a Goddess on a pedestal. Amazing." She turned the doorknob to open the door as Henri removed his hand and kicked it softly with her foot.

Theresa did have more than one glass of wine, she had to admit that now it finally went to her head. Henri chuckled to her, "And here I am thinking that you couldn't, silly me."

"Silly you is right." Theresa stated, going into her room, but Henri grabbed her wrist to bring her back outside. Theresa looked into his grayish blue eyes, unsure of what they were telling her. "What is it?"

"Just wanted to say thank you," he told her with a sincere smile. Theresa smiled sweetly and nodded her head. Henri added on, "Seriously, I don't think that I would have survived tonight without you. The dinner didn't go exactly horrible like I thought it would be. It was a good surprise seeing my step-father flustered like that."

"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow morning if I'm up on time." Theresa went to go back inside, but her wrist still wasn't let go by him. She turned to look at him with her eyebrows furrowed confused. "Henri?" He didn't answer, instead he leaned toward her lips and before Theresa could move away from him, his pressed onto hers gently. His lips were soft and Theresa actually found herself kissing back, her lips becoming less stiff as Henri moved his against hers.

Then the kiss ended when Theresa didn't want it to. Henri moved his off of hers and Theresa kept her eyes closed as she felt Henri lean his forehead against hers for a moment. "I'll make this dinner up to you soon, okay?" His breath hit her lightly when he whispered into it then he started to slowly move away from her.

Theresa slowly opened her eyes with an almost dazed look on her face, seeing Henri smile at her charmingly while he still held her hand. Henri let her hand slip out of his slowly, muttering, "Goodnight, my lady." Theresa stood there for a moment as she watched him turn on his heel and leave her there. She was going over what had just happened, but for now, but she decided to wait on contemplating.

Theresa walked into her room, putting her purse down at the nearest table before shutting the door behind her. Something was different. Theresa's eyes roamed around the room as she looked to see if anything was out of place or out of the ordinary. Her eyes stopped at the white rose that was on the floor.

Theresa pursed her lips, now she didn't think anything of it. It was very likely that it dropped. She walked over to it and picked it up. She put it by her nose to smell the sweet odor it gave and smiled softly. Theresa placed the rose back on top of her bed and went to pick up her frock that was still folded on top of her chair to put it on behind the screen.

For two more hours she stayed in her room and those two hours were very uneventful like the rest of her day before dinner. Theresa picked up where she was in her book, but she found reading wasn't what she wanted to do at that time. Her fingers itched and cramped as she looked through her trunk, picking through pieces of music and arias. Theresa found herself holding the two piano scores that she wanted to play the night before. She wasn't too tired like she was before. The temptation was making her chest feel tight so she decided with the only choice.

The hallway was soundless as she stepped out. Theresa didn't realize that it was actually midnight and most would be asleep. She knew the ballerinas were to do their morning stretches and warmups tomorrow. They always trained it seemed. Theresa, like many other times, thanked God for his graciousness for not planning her into going into the corps de ballet. She wasn't a fit dancer, nor would she ever be. There was a reason they invented ballet shoes, for those that could stand on the tips of their toes and count to ten.

Theresa did however almost went on her toes as she walked. She didn't want to make any sounds as she sneaked around the Opera Populaire to not be sent off back to bed. Her music was hugged to her chest like there was someone around that would take it from her. Theresa's eyes strained through the dark, she should've brought a candle. A candle would help so much.

Theresa thought she felt a pair of eyes following her, but whenever she would look around she wouldn't see any one. She only figured that she was being paranoid. Yes, she was being paranoid. It was midnight, actually it might've been later than midnight.

It was a relief when she had found the practice room. She sighed, sending careful glances around her to make sure once again to see people were watching her every move. Theresa then went inside quietly and shut the door behind her. The window shown the moonlight onto the piano, a great mahogany piano with eighty-eight keys. The bench was pulled out already for her to sit down on it and uncover the grand keys of white and black. Theresa softly smiled, not bother lighting the candle that was near. The moonlight was all the light she needed.

She placed the music on the stand as she sat down onto the bench. She placed her fingers on the appropriate key and started to warm up. Scales. She hated them since her father started to teach her them.

"No, no, no, no," her father stated strictly but gently. Theresa looked up at him abruptly, she was six years old at this time. Her brown hair curled at her shoulders with her hazel eyes already having so much depth. "B natural, not B flat. B natural."

The C scale was the easiest. You only had to go up and down, which she could do in her sleep. The D scale, the A scale, and the E scale were the hardest for her to grab. Anything that had to deal with flats and sharps were hard, those nasty black keys would have been the death of her. Theresa, then, liked singing better. It was easier.

Her fingers cramped as she played. She cursed, shaking her head, looking toward the moon as if it was speaking to her. It was like Theresa saw her father's face looking at her a bit disappointed. It was years since she played, believe it or not. Theresa said to the moon, her father's brown eyes digging into her like she had done wrong, "Father, sorry but I had other obligations to take care of before I would play. Important ones. We all can't get what we want."

Theresa put her hands together and cracked her knuckles, a horrible habit that it seemed all the players had. The crack of her knuckles filled the small room. Then she rolled her shoulders back, hearing them crack. Her whole body was tight, sometimes that could be a problem. She didn't have a doubt in her mind that it was from how she slept the night before in that chair in her room. Then she played a simple melody slowly to regain her ability.

"A foolish girl like you would play in the dead of night, mademoiselle." Theresa stopped abruptly, slipping her fingers off the keys and immediately looking around her. He wasn't here was he? She would've noticed him, she thought, in the shadows if he were there. She only met him the other day and already his voice was mocking her in her head. She was beginning to think that she was going crazy and didn't at all continue playing.

Erik's voice came back, giving her chills, "You stopped playing? Clearly your abilities aren't as bad as you make them seem."

Theresa's eyebrows furrowed confused. She had to defend herself so that she wouldn't be sitting there and taking that! Sure, she was rusty, but she didn't think that she was bad at all. Erik was here, she knew he was here. Theresa thought though that he should dress in brighter colors so she would at least recognize him. Black was bleak and too dark to see at night. Though he was the Phantom of the Opera so it was understandable that he would choose black.

"Erik, where are you? Show yourself." She demanded softly, trying not to sound too forceful. If she was, it was likely that he wouldn't come out. Like a ghost.

Erik laughed, still out of the sights of Theresa, it was starting to bother her. "Who are you to tell a Phantom what to do, Theresa? A normal person would picture you less than sane if you talk in the dark provoking a man like me."

Theresa sighed and retorted, "I already proven myself less than sane and you are not a Phantom. You're a man pretending to be a Phantom. You can't be because you are not an apparition."

"Maybe you are less than foolish," he told her. Theresa looked all over. His voice at times seemed so close and at other times it seemed so far away. Right now, it seemed to be right by her ear. Theresa looked abruptly next to her to see that there was no one there. There was no one at all. It was only an empty place on the piano bench. "I'll make a deal with you," Theresa's eyebrows both perked when she heard 'deal.' "You play something that is worth me coming in and showing myself, and your demand to see me will be granted." Theresa immediately looked to the door.

Come in, she thought to herself. He was right outside the door. Instead of going to play or start to, she got up from the bench and then walked over to the door. Theresa quickly opened it to see if he was out there but it was silent and dark. Theresa's face fell in confusion. Where in the hell was he? This was going to bother her. Then she heard his voice again. "Are you deaf? You keep making me think you are by stalling. I'm not out there. You'll find out if I am if you play well."

Theresa straightened her shoulders as she took a glance over to the right, no one. The voice came from the back of the room, but Theresa decided that his voice went all over. It really didn't matter where did it come from. That bothered her more than where he was. Stubbornly, Theresa took a step back, closing the door. She moved her neck, a small crack of her bone there. She seethed through her teeth as she walked slowly and cautiously over to the bench. She was waiting for him to put out his foot to trip her as a sort of jest.

She moved the skirt of her frock so she could sit on it easier. Theresa closed her eyes, placing her fingers on the right keys. Theresa actually didn't need music to guide her, she knew how to play it by heart. "As you wish, Monsieur Opera Ghost," she heard a chuckle echo in darkness that followed because of her mocking tone. Then Theresa started with the beautiful song, A Time for Us. It was strange playing it, it was almost like it came natural to her since she practiced this piece non stop.

"That's actually good," Erik's voice came, but this time it came from the door. Theresa turned her head to look, stumbling on the keys, messing herself up.

Theresa moved her hands off of the piano and placed them on her lap. She hated when she stumbled on the keys. Theresa told him, "Thank you. So, I see you lied to me before and that you really were outside of the door." Erik's figure came moving toward her and Theresa made sure to move more to the edge on the bench to give him room to sit. She thanked the moonlight for helping her see him. Erik furrowed his eyebrows. "You're not going to stand, are you? Sit."

Erik gave a slight puff and sat down onto the bench next to her, flapping his cape back so that it was not in the way. His handsome face that was visible was shown to her as he looked down at the keys. Then he took off his gloves, showing his bare, strong hands. They were large and they looked so soft to her. He stated to her, "It's not good to crack your bones as you play, Theresa. You should know that. You seem to have been playing for a while," his gentle, deep voice came to her and she nodded slowly.

Theresa told him, admitting, "It's a bad habit."

"Indeed," Erik placed his hands on the keys and slowly played a melody out. Theresa knew it was from memory, the music he was playing wasn't on the stand in front of him, nor was he looking up taking several glances. It was beautiful. Theresa could say that she didn't at all know the piece and it wasn't a piece her father used to play on his free time. She found herself very curious on what it was. Theresa's eyes were glued onto his fingers as they were dancing on the black and white keys.

Theresa asked him, a smile curving on her lips, "What song is this? It's beautiful."

Erik answered, never losing his focus. "It isn't yet. A melody that is stuck in my head. Had been for days."

Theresa looked up at him in disbelief, he thought this up? The song was sweet and it made her almost sway along with it. She told him, "It's beautiful. You should write it down, so you will remember it later."

Theresa saw the corner of his mouth go up in either a smirk or smile. Erik could smile? Theresa could've chuckled seeing the Phantom of the Opera actually smiling. Something that she thought could never happen and she liked seeing it on his face. "Thank you, mademoiselle. I am planning on writing it down when I find a way to complete it."

"Well, I'm sure you could, it's genius." She stated. Theresa looked back down, an idea already dwelling in her head. "You know," she moved closer, Erik didn't stop playing but he looked over at her dismayed as he felt her body skimming his. Theresa continued, paying no mind about it. "If you want to complete it soon, the melody you can play could go more slower and it dims as it goes to the higher octave while you play the harmony louder and to the melody's old octave. A way to end it."

Erik pursed his lips, "How about the other way around?"

"I'm not sure. That's been done a lot, at least what I said is, in fact, different."

"Well, I am not sure if that would sound good with the piece," his tone was stubborn. Theresa narrowed her eyes at him and gritted her teeth.

"I think I know what I am talking about." Theresa told him, her eyes narrowing more dangerously than ever.

Erik stopped playing abruptly and turned his head toward her. "And I think that I know more on this topic than you do, mademoiselle." Theresa pursed her lips, she could tell that he was getting irritated by her, but she didn't feel intimidated.

"You should at least try it," she insisted. "If it sounds better than you're idea than you should eat those words right after."

He glared at her. Theresa still didn't feel the slightest bit intimidated by it. Did glaring at her make him think that he could scare her? Theresa backed off a bit though, knowing that this is a losing battle. "I apologize, only a suggestion, Erik. It was nothing more than an idea."

It took a long moment before his glare at her actually settled down. He sighed, "It was nice that you put in your input. So thank you... again." Theresa's smile was brought back up and she nodded appreciatively. "You were playing Romeo and Juliet, I've noticed before. Is that your favor—?"

Theresa shook her head no immediately interrupting, "Oh, no, no, no."

"No?" He asked curiously as he looked back over at her.

Theresa shook her head again. "Absolutely not. Love struck teenagers who fell in love in not even a day is completely unrealistic," she told him honestly. Theresa could admit. She never cared for either the play or the opera. Erik raised an eyebrow to her as she continued, "Shakespeare practically used the same plot that was in Cleopatra and Antony, him dying thinking that she died and then she wakes up and kills herself. Romeo and Juliet were naïve and stupid, generally. Romeo had the worst ways to getting her to love him, like the five lines he used to get her on the balcony. "

Erik looked at her in disbelief. He rolled his shoulders back as he stated to her, "You do have a point."

Theresa nodded, "The story always bothered me. Even when I read it when I was younger it bothered me." Theresa looked down to the keys then back at him. His green eyes looked her up and down, his face was very visible to her, but she did see his white mask. The mask was very extravagant. He must have enjoyed wearing it since it was the only mask that she saw him wear in the times that they had met. She told him, gulping, "You seem very acclaimed in music. Do you compose songs often, Erik?"

Theresa felt idiotic for asking him that question. Of course he was acclaimed in music! He was the Phantom of the Opera for goodness sake! Erik though didn't look at her thinking the same thing that she was. Instead he looked forward and nodded. Erik answered, "Music is indeed my life. I do live in an Opera House so I would assume that it would be safe to say that I know a lot about music and of my own. I enjoy composing songs, mademoiselle, I thought that was obvious."

She nodded, "It was. I don't even know why I asked it. I've heard that you even wrote an opera from the chatter I hear around here." Theresa caught Erik's glance over to her. A thought suddenly went through her head, but it was driven away when she decided to change the subject. The past would've been sensitive to him most likely, so she didn't want to press it. "Do you know this duet?"

Erik raised his eyebrow, "A duet?"

"Yes, a duet. You know, two people playing—."

"Theresa, I know what a duet is." He stated to her. "I just don't know why it's worth you bringing it up now."

Theresa shrugged, a bit dismayed. "Well," she started, unsure of how to ask him this. He probably didn't know it. Her and her father would play all the time when she was younger. She did the top part while he did the bottom and it was cheerful. She pursed her lips. Erik wouldn't want to play that mediocre song she assumed. "You know what, never you mind. It's not that important."

"Well, you did say it, didn't you?" Erik stated. Theresa knew that he wasn't just going to let this go.

She sighed defeated, "There's this duet my father taught me before he died. We always used to play it together. It's a fun song, very cheerful; I always liked it. And... I was wondering if you would want to play it with me? You do the bottom," as she continued Erik just looked at her curiously, unsure of what to say to her. And she actually gained more confidence as she continued, "and I would do the top. It's not that hard, it's just—." Theresa interrupted herself as she started to play the bottom part of the song.

Theresa didn't know the exact name of it, she only knew how to play it. Though, she wasn't as experienced on that part. Erik watched her fingers carefully, he wasn't sure whether or not if he liked it or not. She soon smirked though once she was getting the hang of it. But he soon put a hand over hers to make her stop. "Maybe another time," he stated to her. Theresa looked down at his hand on top of hers in disbelief, his skin was actually soft like she noticed before. Erik soon took his hand away from hers though, causing Theresa's smirk to fall.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, getting up from the bench and taking the gloves off of the piano to put on. "You should be going to bed, mademoiselle." He told her sternly, but gently. Theresa just looked up at him. Erik continued, "It's late and it's wise to not be out of your room at this hour. You never know," he looked around the room, not referring to himself but other people... "who is lurking in these shadows."

Slowly Theresa nodded, understandingly, but she didn't move from her spot. "Would you like that to be repeated louder for you or are you at a loss of hearing?" He asked her, his tone seemed annoyed that she wasn't following with most of anything that he said this whole time. Theresa shook her head, coming out of it.

"I just have a question," she started slowly. Theresa had a lot of questions. She wanted to know more about what had happened about the fire. She wasn't still in the dark about it, but she wanted to hear his side. There had to be more than what she was told by Emile right? How would he react to it though? Maybe Erik wasn't ready to tell anyone of it, even though it was six years ago. I guess, I'll find out in time, she thought. Before she could take that back, Erik gestured for her to go ahead as he retreated toward the door.

Now she had to think of a backup question to ask of him. "How does your voice seem all around at times or really close by at others? It really is a curious thing, you know."

Erik looked at her for a moment, not believing at first that that wasn't what she wanted to ask him. But soon, he chuckled softly as his hand reached the doorknob. "Like this?" He said with his mouth closed and his voice at the other side of the room. Theresa turned her head toward there in disbelief then looked back at him shocked. He told her simply with a smirk, "Ventriloquism."

And before Theresa could say anything else to him he left the room without another word. Theresa stared dumbfounded at the door for a long moment.

She then cleared her throat, turned back to the piano and started to play absently. Erik waited outside in the shadows for her to come out, which wasn't until an hour later. Then he made sure that Theresa made it to her room safely, watching the corners of the halls carefully. When she stopped at her door, it was like Theresa knew he was following her. She looked around before taking out her key and unlocking it. Theresa entered her room with a soft click of her door so no one would hear.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Next chapter, I promise there will be something that previous readers will not remember at all in it! Thank you for reading! I hope you and your family have a very Merry Christmas!

With love,

Tiana (aka Why Fireflies Flash)