The Angel's Shadow || The Phantom of the Opera || Book Two

27. Promise Me

Chapter Twenty Seven || Promise Me

Mélodie

The clanging of metal objects and the squeaking of hardworking wheels coaxed me from my deep sleep. My wonderful deep sleep.

Muffled voices drifted over to wear I laid. They sounded hushed, excitedly talking about a woman who moved. Were they talking about me?

Where am I? Who is talking? What made my bed shift?

My eyes refused to acknowledge my body waking up. I tried to move, I tried to make a sound, but my brain seemed to be disconnected from the rest of my body. The fabric beneath my hands felt as rough as my dry throat. I managed to force my exhausted fingers to curl and investigate the unfamiliar bedding. The blanket was thin; more like a sheet than a blanket. Not that I mind in this stifling weather. A moment later, another hand came under mine and laced our fingers together. Despite being tired, I felt my lips twitch into a content smile. I remember someone entwining our fingers like this before; someone I had loved very dearly. Their hand felt soft, safe, familiar. Complacency washed over me and, without realizing it, I drifted off into another deep sleep.

Wonderful.... Deep.... Quiet.... Sleep....

~*~

The next thing that softly tugged me from my heavy sleep was a cry of a baby. No. Not a cry. More of a giggle. A cute, boisterous giggle.

My finger twitched against my side, the blanket softer than what I had felt before. Where am I now? Why can't I wake up? Fully wake up?

"And then the bad man said, 'Since neither of them are here, you can give them a message for me.' Bravery radiating off of his face, your Uncle Dantes brought his chin up and said, 'And what might that be?'"

That voice. I know that voice. That voice that haunted my dreams. That voice that I have longed to hear for so long.

"The bad man sneered, his teeth long and sharp. His eyes glowed red when he growled, 'This.' And then he jumped at your Uncle Dantes, knife in his hand and rage in his heart..." 

Uncle Dantes? Knife?

Valentin...

I felt panic swell up inside me, only to be drowned out; extinguished by the darkness that dragged me back down into another long, peaceful sleep. Such wonderful, quiet sleep.

~*~

There were no voices. There were no nightmares. No blood. No lifeless children. No screams. Just darkness. Comforting darkness.

Sweat trickled down my brow, stopping at something wrapped around my head. I expanded my ribs, taking in a long, slow, deep breath. Regaining control of my limbs, I reached up and touched the cotton bandage that encircled my head, wincing once my fingertips made contact. I finally opened my crusty eyes, only to have them quickly shut again at the sight of the monstrous afternoon sunlight. After a moment, I forced them open once more; first the left, then the right. I squinted at the brightly lit room, the fuzzy view of the foreign place refusing to come into focus. I looked to the right side of my bed, spotting the blurry outline of a man sitting on it's edge. He sat with his back to me, hunched over an object in his arms, fully engrossed in whatever it was. I reached up and rubbed my eyes, desperate to find out exactly who was sitting beside me.

I wiggled my toes and stretched my fingers, willing the rest of my body to wake up. Gradually, one cell at a time, I felt feeling return to my body; the process as slow as the sun peaking over the horizon in the morning.