He nodded walking over to the piano and flicking though a few pages of sheet music. Other than the sound of the flickering candle flames and the ruffling of paper the room was silent. After finishing your soup you placed the bowl down on the ground and made sure that it was in a place that you won't knock it over later. "So (name), " he began after what felt like an eternity of silence, "can you sing?". You thought for a few seconds. You weren't brilliant at it but you weren't exactly terrible. You had never really been interested, not even when you're mother had tried to convince you to take lessons. In the end you shook your head deciding that it wasn't worth humiliating yourself in case he asked you to sing and you actually couldn't. "Then let me teach you," he hinted offering his hand to help you up. cautiously you excepted it. Only after standing up you noticed that the clothes you were currently wearing weren't the ones you had on were you arrived. A flood of panic suddenly consumed you. What had happened while you were asleep? "Your cloths where wet from after you fell into the water, " he began obviously noticing you worry, "it's not good for you to sleep in damp clothes so I changed you. I hope you don't mind.". But a part of you did mind it ment that he must have seen you naked. You blushed slightly at the thought. He then escorted you over to the piano where he handed you a sheet of paper. You read through them and realised that they were song lyrics. The man begin to play the piano making you freeze in panic. "Your supposed to sing," he said but you didn't move. He sighed and stopped playing and you couldn't help but feel a little guilty. "If you don't feel comfortable singing that's fine," he added with a sense of complete calm and control. Again you panicked and after having an argument with yourself in your head you finally managed to blurt out the words "I don't know when to come in or to pause or which notes are meant to be high." A pitiful excuse you through but it seemed to work as he nodded, turned back to the piano and began to play again. "Pay attention to what I do," he explained and began to sing. You stood there as if you were in a trance. hypnotized by the glorious melody. Every note seemed perfect, in fact it was perfect to you. It made your heart beat in a funny way which nothing had ever done before. This man, this strange man, had already captured your heart in music and you didn't even know his name. His eyes focused mainly on the paper but every so often they would glance up at you and you would return with a cheerful smile to show you were enjoying the time. You never wanted this moment to end, just listing to him sing. But it did and when it did there was an emidiant feeling of emptiness that just lingered. The silence was awful and you hated it with a passion as he looked at you obviously waiting for you to speak. To say something intelligent. Your mind was still frazzled from the pressure you were placing on yourself to act and say things to make you seem like someone you weren't. "Who are you?" You asked. Nothing was troubling you more. You wanted to find out who he was and this seemed to be a silly question bit it was a starting point. "People often call me the phantom of the opera."
