Castiel and the Phantom of the Opera [Destiel]

Chapter 5: The Mask

          Castiel woke to a soft, twinkling melody. He also woke alone. He reached out, expecting to come in contact with his Angel’s soft but firm body and found nothing. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around for the source of the music and for his missing partner. Sitting up in the bed, he noticed a music box sitting next to the bed. He shifted to the edge of the bed and stared at it with curious eyes.

          The music box was small and adorned with a small monkey in some kind of robe. The monkey held two cymbals in its hands and would lean back and forth. Each time it leaned forward, he would bring the cymbals so close together it looked like they touched. Castiel cocked his head to the side – something he normally did when something interested him. It looked to be a rather expensive and well-crafted piece . . . but why did his Angel have it? Looking around at his home, The Angel didn’t seem to be any kind of collector. Some things were scattered about, but all the items seemed to have some sort of use. None of them were simply for looks – the Angel was the only one who saw them every day. So this music box had to have some kind of significance.

          When the music box’s song ceased, Castiel got out of the bed. It was odd to feel a breeze on his bare flesh. And it was a real breeze. The air circulated with a great deal of freedom in the alcove. He looked around for his pants and the other clothes he had been wearing the night before. He hadn’t exactly noticed where they’d been thrown – he had been a little preoccupied at the time. To his surprise, he found them at the foot of the bed folded in a neat pile.

          He dressed, pulling on his black pants and buttoning his white shirt with ease. He even slipped on his tan trench coat after a few moments of contemplation. Now that his clothes had been located, it was time to find his Angel.

          Following the soft sounds of an organ, Castiel retraced the steps he’d taken the previous night. He descended the stairs so he was back in the main section of the alcove. The lake lapped at the rocky shore, the sound echoing throughout the little cavern. I remember there was mist, Castiel thought, looking out at the water. Swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake . . . He looked at the multitudes of candles that illuminated the alcove and continued down the stairs. There were candles all around . . . and on the lake there was a boat. The boat was still docked where the Angel had left it the night before. And in the boat . . . there was a man.

          Castiel’s eyes found him as soon as he thought it. The blond-haired Angel sat at the organ, softly playing a familiar tune – one that he’d heard many times before in their auditory meetings. Upon Castiel’s entry, he glanced up from what he was doing. A smile flashed on his face for a brief second, and his evergreen eyes flashed before he returned to what he was doing. He still wore his mask, but was dressed in different clothes. He wore a white, open-chested shirt and the same black pants he’d been wearing before. He looked more attractive than ever.

          The mask bugged Castiel and he didn’t know why. Why did the Angel feel the need to wear it? Why did he hide himself? Castiel thought that he should take it off – at least for a little while. After all, they had made love. Did the Angel not trust him? Why did he insist on keeping a part of himself hidden?

          Castiel went to his side and stood there a few moments, almost hovering. The Angel didn’t seem bothered by his presence and continued to play. That was when Castiel stretched out his hands. At first, the Angel tensed – it was a miniscule change in his demeanor; he went rigid. But the moment Castiel’s hands touched his face, the Angel visibly softened. He even leaned into Castiel’s hands, as if yearning for his attention. Castiel stroked the exposed side of his Angel’s face with one hand while the other snuck around to the mask. In one swift motion, he tore it off.