The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

Distance

Christine

"The height of the Venice carnival! I am glad I stayed here long enough to experience it," I smiled and looked once again through the open window of my sitting room.

People milled about on foot and in gondolas, all clad in magnificent masks that hid their identities perfectly. They filled the crisp February air with excitement and a touch of scandal.

"The Venice carnival isn't what it used to be. Months of living under the masks, months of freedom from one's own face and identity — that's what it used to mean."

I turned to look at Erik. He looked despondent. He's been like this for weeks, ever since Meg visited. It was puzzling, but at least I could understand his melancholy regarding the carnival.

"That's what Giulia keeps saying, too. And indeed, what a pity: Venice of days past would be a perfect city for you! Still, you should seize what you can. A party or two is still better than staying in this house all the time, don't you think?"

He made a vague, hesitant gesture that resembled a shrug. I smiled. For all his cool distance, he seemed to be getting more and more relaxed ever since he moved in. His demeanor and manners were becoming more natural, in a way.

"If my mask is elaborate enough, I don't mind the crowds. And I will certainly attend any party you wish to visit, to watch over you."

I frowned and approached him, then gingerly touched his arm to get him to look at me instead of staring darkly at the people below.

"Why don't we simply attend together? The rumors have it set that we're involved anyway."

"That would only make it worse then. You deserve better than to be subjected to such talk."

"I got used to it, and it doesn't matter anymore. I am not a lady who needs to fret over her reputation. An aspiring diva can court scandal if she's careful enough, or at least that's what everyone keeps telling me," I added, thinking back to several conversations that I led earlier this month.

"They will run me over with their curiosity if they know I'm Dessler," he said quietly.

"Thanks to Manelli, everyone knows that Dessler is a recluse. Be as rude as you like. No one will care, as long as they get to hear your next opera. Speaking of which, how is it progressing? I would love to try out a sample if you have it ready."

"Not yet. It's too soon. And regarding the carnival, I will think about it. I can craft a beautiful mask for you, one that will set you apart from whole of Venice, but I won't feed an illusion that I can live in your world, even as Erik Dessler. You should remember that. If you will excuse me now, I will withdraw to the music room. My opera won't write itself."

"I could join you there..."

"Better not, Christine."

He took my hand and kissed it in a gentlemanly gesture, and all the while he couldn't hide the longing in his eyes. It moved me, and I wanted to say something, to ask why he is keeping his distance when until recently he was going out of his way to draw me in. I kept quiet and let him leave instead.

I settled myself in the salon with a book, enjoying the warmth of the fire while I mulled things over. There were two obvious answers: either Meg's arrival changed something, or he had some hidden reasons of his own — to intrigue me, to withhold his music from me, and to minimize our lessons, all in order to better lure me in. And it was working. I loved singing with him and listening to him sing so much, that it left me restless to be suddenly deprived of it.

What do I want?

I got up to light a candle and say a prayer, wishing for my father's guidance, wishing there was another, real, Angel of Music somewhere out there, one who could help me. Erik was inside my mind as much as he was before as the Phantom of the Opera, and I didn't even know why, and I knew even less how to stop it from happening. Giulia was a good friend by now, but I couldn't ask for her advice, just as I couldn't ask anyone else. Such was the sad price of keeping secrets.