How is it you sing?

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The song above is from the movie Sweeney Todd, and being from the movie, it won't have all of the lines. But you can still listen to it for the mood!
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You sighed and looked around the empty room.
They had just finished their last opera for a while, so they did not currently have a lead soprano.
This gave you an empty room to sing in.
You were extremely shy and hated singing in front of others.
That made this room perfect.
Ayesha sat on the small bed in the room and watched you prance about, which didn't last long as she fell asleep.

"Green finch, and linnet bird,
Nightingale, blackbird,
How is it you sing?"

You started, a light melody you had heard once, in a dream you supposed.

"How can you jubilate
sitting in cages
never taking wing?
Outside the sky waits
beckoning!
Beckoning!
Just beyond the bars..."

You felt eyes upon you ,but you didn't stop to look around.

"How can you remain
staring at the rain
maddened by the stars?
How is it you sing
anything?
How is it you sing?"

You heard a voice lightly humming long with you, and suddenly the room became much colder.

"Green finch. and linnet bird,
nightingale, blackbird
How is it you sing?
Whence comes this melody
constantly floating?"
The humming got louder.

"Is it rejoicing or merely aloaming?
Are you discussing?
Or fussing?
Or simply dreaming?"

The voice was now singing along with you, it was gorgeous.
Your breathe was caught, but you quickly caught yourself and continued.

"Are you crowing?
Are you screaming?
Ringdove and robinet
is it for wages?
Singing to be sold?"

You could hear the voice become more confident, almost as if it was smirking.

You felt something breathing down your neck and you quit singing once you felt a pair of hands encircle your waist.
"Have you decided it's safer in cages
singing when you're told?"

The voice was enchanting, a male obviously.

"My cage has many rooms
damask and dark...
Nothing there sings,
not even my lark."

His voice became serious and his arms
tightened around your waist.

"Larks never will, you know,
when they're captive.
Teach me to be more
adaptive...." 
He leaned down and placed his nose in the crook of your neck.
"Green Finch, and Linnet Bird,
nightingale, blackbird,
teach me how to sing.
If I cannot fly..."
You continued and his presence seemed to make your voice soar to notes you never could have imagined.
"Let me sing."
You finished and he let out a content sigh, letting out a chuckle next to your
ear that made your heart leap.

"Beautiful..."
He brought his lips to your ear and whispered.
"Just like you...my angel.."

Suddenly, fear flooded through you.
You had to leave.
You couldn't stay with him....
You knew who this was.

The Opera Ghost....
The phantom of the opera...

Your voice trembled as you weakly tried to pull away.
"M-Monsieur...I have to g-go..."
"But why, Mon ange."
He purred lightly, almost like a cat and cuddled into your neck.
"I-I have practice tomorrow a-and Madame Giry will-"

He let out a sigh.
"I suppose Madame Giry would be mad...."

He lightly rubbed circles into your side, thinking about something.

You quickly responded, not wanting to lose him.
He may be the opera ghost....but he made you feel....alive.

"Will I see you again?"
He seemed surprised, for his grip loosened.

"Of course Mon ange....until then."
He turned you around and took you hand, kissing the knuckles.
He looked up and you were met with a white porcelain mask and piercing gold eyes that appeared to glow in the darkness.

You bolted for the door, leaving the man alone to his thoughts.
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He rushed down to the lair, heart thumping so loud he could hear it deafeningly in his ears.
Jumping out of the gondola that he hardly remember getting in, he thumped down onto the swan shaped bed in his home.
Ayesha followed slowly behind him and seemed to smirk.
"What is it?" Asked Ayesha.
"I-I actually did it.."
"Did what?"
"I spoke to her, sang with her! I...I even held her!" He let out a breathless laugh.
"It was glorious..."
"Took you long enough..."
"Oh hush you.."
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Some Cats can be so clingy. (Phantom of the opera X reader)Where stories live. Discover now