My Forever and Always (The Phantom of The Opera)

Chapter 13

*Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my lovely readers! We are soon stepping into a new year with this story. I pray that this new year will bring happiness and prosperity to all of you!*

Previously: I was sleeping besides Erik on the couch. My head was on his shoulder. Our bodies were snuggled close. Holysh*t. 

I was too shocked to move. How did we end up like this? We were leaning on each other and slightly snuggling. I honestly wouldn't really care if it were one of my guy friends back in LA. But given the era this would probably be considered scandalous.

My drowsy eyes now adjusted to the light and I studied my surroundings. My eyes drawled over the stacked papers, empty coffee mugs, burnt out candles, sketches under paperweights and my ipad. I shifted my attention to Erik who was lightly breathing besides me. He was not wearing his mask. I just had to turn my head to the left and I could see his face up close. His sculpted features stood out in the dim light. His blonde hair was ruffled untidily and his white shirt had shifted, revealing some part of his bare chest. I moved my free hand to his face. I swiped a few stray locks of hair away from his forehead and shifted to get up. My movement caused him to wake up. He fluttered his eyes open and saw my hand lightly touching his face, while to his right, my face was mere inches away. Erik blinked and I swear I could see red on his cheek.

He stared into my eyes for seconds that felt like hours because of this awkward position I am in. I am practically leaning on him in my night clothes while touching his face without consent. I probably looked like a pervert right now. I broke the stare, looked away and quickly jumped up.

Luck wasn't on my side because even before taking one full step away from the couch, I tripped on my dress and fell back. I fell on top of Erik and who quickly held my waist to stop me from crashing and failed. I raised myself by supporting my weight on my elbows, both arms on each side of his face. My hair fell around Erik's face as I looked at him and frantically muttered.

"I guess we both dozed off on the couch while working.. uh., working on our work?"

I mentally slapped myself.

"So, I woke up just now and saw your hair was all over your face and tried to move it, anyways I think I have to go report to Robert and Pierre early today. Bye." I blurted and rushed out gathering my skirt. What an awkward start to the day.

I glanced back one last time before walking out, Erik held his hair away from his face with his hand while staring off at a distance. He was smiling widely.

I smirked. I guess I worried over nothing, Erik seems pretty chill. But still, I couldn't bring myself to go meet him for a couple of days. Part of the reason was many things that kept me busy above ground. But also because this 19th century societal standards were getting on to me, and I felt too awkward seeing Erik just yet.

ONE WEEK LATER

I walked towards the main stage of the Opera and placed down the rolls of canvas I was carrying. The chorus girls were huddled together on the left, they were on a break. The group of girls sneaked glances in my way and whispered. The brass section in the orchestra were tuning themselves, few of them kept glancing in my direction as I sewed two canvas rolls at their edges. Robert walked in and sat beside me. He set down some paints and looked at me while I silently stitched.

"Hello to the most popular young lady in town." He said and flashed me playful grin.

"Ugh stop it Robert. I'm sick of being stared at by every other person. Wish I could mix in the background like I used to a few days ago." I sighed.

"Well, nobody is going to forget your name for a while Clarissa. After all the Countess paid you a personal visit right at middle of the Opera Populaire. Today every lady in the town can sell her soul to get hands on your makeup!"

"I promised to deliver her the products at her Manor. I still have no idea why she came here herself. On top of that she attended some royal events with my makeup and made it the talk of the town. Not that I'm complaining, but all of this is so new to me!" I said. I truly didn't expect any of this.

"Everything happens for a reason. If it wasn't enough that your products were too good to be true, your first client was someone so influential to make herself known all across Europe. I am so happy for you Clary." Robert's grin turned wider and his face gleamed happily.

He and I were similar age. In the days working together, we became tight buddies. I was done stitching so I moved towards Robert and started helping him with painting back drops.

The uncomfortable whispers in the background faded out as me and Robert painted and gossiped about different 'scandals' happening around the Opera. Robert accidentally smudged some paint of my wrist. I being my petty self, smudged some on his wrist too.

"Wait, the smudge you made on my wrist is bigger than one I did. Not fair!" Robert whined.

"Oh, please how petty!"

"Look who's talking!" He said while smearing paint on my cheek.

"Now it's on Robby."

"Now it's on Clary."

We tussled and then sword-fight with paint brushes, giggling like crazy. Unsurprisingly Pierre came in and collected us both; then tossed us out near the gate. He rested his arms on both of our shoulders and said, "Enough commotion. You both are sure setting a nice reputation for the stage direction department." 

My stomach growled loudly as both men looked down at me.

"Lunch on me! We haven't celebrated since my business kick started. Let's go boys!" I ushered Robert and Pierre along towards the main street.

The Phantom lurked amidst the shadows, concealed so well no one could ever see a shred of him. He peered down from the rafters above, watching over his Opera House. He saw his little angel of music run across the corridors, her voice blooming with the training she received every day. One day she will have a voice that no one can compete, the Phantom will see to it.

He had to listen to how his orchestra was coming along. But he could not hear a single instrument blaring in the auditorium. His attention was taken away by a woman painting happily on a large patch of canvas. She looked so ethereal even in the most mundane circumstances. But his thoughts were soon disturbed as the man sitting besides her said something to make her laugh. They sat close together, painting, and now held on to each other's hands. Oh, how they were happily laughing, trying to paint each other and not the canvas.

"Now it's on Robby."

"Now it's on Clary."

They said each other's name with such endearment and laughed. But someone watching them didn't share in the joy.

The Phantom clenched his fists around the rope, wishing he could strangulate that man with it. His jaw stiffened and his vision fixated with anger.