The Shadow's Melody || The Phantom of the Opera || Book One

21. Letters of Love

Chapter Twenty One || Letters of Love

Mélodie

I knew he was there, watching me. I could feel his green eyes when I was sitting at my vanity table dragging a brush through my thick hair. I went to my table and brought the bouquet of his roses to my nose so he could see them. Because he still hid in the shadow of a tree I knew he thought I couldn't see him.

Memories of our times in the opera house brought a smile to my lips. He always thought I would never spot him, and the times when I had spotted him I let him think he succeeded in hiding from me. It was strange how I just knew he was there. I could feel it in my bones. The hairs on my arms would stand up and I felt like the part of my soul that was missing had finally found me.

And on Christmas, when we finally joined together and became one, it was as if my entire world was finally complete. I had found what I had been searching for ever since I was a child. Ever since I thought the man with the enchanting voice was dead.

I had teased Erik by removing my slip and taking my time finding my nightgown. The first time we had made love and I had laid there exposed to him I felt nervous, self-conscious. Erik solved that by kissing away all of my insecurities.

I touched the markings he had left on my neck, sad that they were starting to fade. I wanted him to come up here and make new ones to replace the old so they would never fade. Peeking over my shoulder I saw him step into the light and I smiled at my ability to lure him to me.

But then Valentin came and I saw Erik retreat into the shadows. It was painful having another man's lips move against mine. I know it's horrible and I know I shouldn't have done it, but the only way I could bear feeling Valentine's lips and endure his advances was to image it was Erik. Valentin's hands had gone up my sides and I stopped myself from crying by fooling my mind into thinking it was Erik's gentle hands instead. When Valentin pushed me back onto my bed I couldn't bear it any longer. Valentin apologized, telling me it was wrong of him to do such things before we were married. I didn't care about that. He couldn't know I didn't care about that.

Closing the door behind him I clung onto the handle for support.

I can't do this. I can't marry him. I can't live like this for the rest of my life. What kind of a marriage would we have if I had to imagine my husband was another man the entire time? A man that had stolen my heart when I was a little girl. A man that had taken me as a woman. I can't do this.

Turning out the lights and avoiding the shatter glass on the floor, I crawled into bed and dreamed of my Erik.

* * *

Light shone on my face, making me grimace. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want my lungs to breath. I didn't want my heart to beat. I didn't want to live another day.

The only time I was really happy was when I was asleep, visiting my lover in my dreams. Last night I had dreamt that he came. It was so vivid I felt like I could actually feel him caressing my face. I could actually feel his hand as I brought it to my lips. I whispered his name, wanting it to be real.

Taking a deep breath I furrowed my brow, smelling something familiar and pleasing.

Opening my eyes I smiled widely. Beside me on my pillow is a single red rose. Sitting up I saw more on my nightstand, a letter and a bundle of papers.

Picking up the bundle I untied the string and unwrapped it. Sheet music. He sent me sheet music. The title written across the first page read: The Music Of The Night

I couldn't wait to hear it. As I unfolded his letter I held his rose to my nose:

My Angel,

I have lost count of the amount of times I have replayed our night in my mind. I kept my bedroom exactly the way it was when you left to assure me our night wasn't a dream.

I wish we had more time together. To have found you and lose you in such short a time is agony to my heart.

You said that you cannot bear being an ocean apart but I cannot bear being a city apart. Know that I am yours, Mélodie. All yours for the rest of our lives.

The walls of my lair along with the walls of my heart feel dead without you near. Both ache to hear your voice and your sighs again.

I love you. I love you so much I can't find words to express it. Since I cannot make you feel that love once more by kissing you from head to toe I will let you hear it.

I give you one last gift before you go. I give you the Music of the Night.

Your Opera Ghost,
Erik

* * *

The music he wrote for me was beautiful. The haunted tune stayed with me for the rest of my days as did all his music. It was playing in my head now as I gathered all my things at the Opéra Populaire. I didn't see Violette but I could come back to tell her goodbye.

Standing in the doorway I looked at the tiny room. I made so many memories here. Memories happier than the ones I had back in my oversized bedroom.

Making my way through the backstage area I raised my head to find the eyes that were burning into my back. I spotted Erik standing on one of the hanging platforms, watching me. All I could do was stare up at him. Our eyes said what our lips couldn't, "I love you."

Holding my necklace I had to leave before I broke down.

* * *

It was near 10:30 pm now and I was still in my fiancé's office being informed of all my new duties as Queen. I miss my father. Not my father the King, but my father the musician.

He had such kind eyes. When I envision him that's what I remember most clearly, his kind eyes. They were an exotic green, much like Erik's, and they were filled with childlike joy and curiosity.

When I was little, around three or four, he would call me his little princess. At the time I thought he meant a princess like Cinderella or Snow White. As I grew older I realized that I was indeed an actual princess - and it was nothing like the fairy tales. After Papa died I hated the title of princess. Even now I hate it. I hate the title of Queen. I want to be Mélodie de l'Obscurité, a maid at the Opéra Populaire. I could be free. I could have Erik.

Papa had been the only one who comforted me through all my vigorous etiquette trainings. Mother had, too, but as queen she had to be strict with me. Especially since I was notorious for being slightly rebellious.

"You will always have music, Mélodie. It is the escape from hardship and the gateway to another world."

He was so excited to take me to the opera that night. The night of Don Juan.

But he was right. He was always right. Running my fingers over Erik's notes I thought to myself, "Music is the gateway to another world."

Erik's music is a gateway to my other world. My world with Erik. My lover. My Angel of Music.