XIV. Return to the Angel

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     Lilienne sat with her legs tucked under her on the stage in the darkened theatre.  She didn't know if he was coming, but still she sat patiently in the small circumference of light, hands folded in her lap, humming gently to occupy her mind; does he know I'm waiting?  Would he even come? 

     Suddenly, the stage brightened as the other lights blazed to life to mark his entrance.  A smile instantly brightened her face, and her eyes flew to the high ceiling.

     "I see you have been waiting," the deep tones of his voice echoed.

     "Ange... you came."

     "What sort of teacher would I be if I abandoned my pupil?"

     "And what sort of pupil was I to abandon my patient teacher?  Ange, I want to apologize -" she bowed her head and gazed into her lap shamefully, "I gave up too soon.  I lost faith."

     "Faith in ton Ange?"

     "Faith in myself.  But I think I am ready, now, to sing for you."

     "Très bien, ma douce fille.  We shan't waste time, then, as you've had an extended break from your lessons.  Let us begin."

     In that instant, she heard his music again.  The aria Pense à Moi  filled the space around her until it seeped under her skin.  It was a sense of release, to be surrounded by the Angel's music.

Think of me, think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye.

Remember me once in awhile,

Please promise me you'll try -

When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free,

If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me.

     "Oui, ma petite, bien fait," he praised.  Lilienne clasped her hands in front of her, embarrassed.

     "Vraiment, mon Ange?"

     "Bien sûr, ma chère.  But, you are still shy.  You're not moving enough air.  We'll begin where we left off," he instructed.  The music swelled once more.

We never said our love was evergreen

Or as unchanging as the sea,

But if you can still remember,

Stop and think of me.

     "Do not stop," she heard him say.  Then, the accompaniment dropped out, but she kept on singing, as ordered.

Think of all the things we've shared and seen -

Don't think about the way things might have been.

    In the silence while she took a breath, she heard a soft whisper so close behind her that she could've leaned back into him.

     "Don't be alarmed - just think about my hand."

     At this, she felt his arm encircle her waist, his hand applying the gentlest pressure to her stomach.  She kept singing a cappella,  only now it was more difficult to focus with the Angel of Music's warm breath on her neck, and the sweet scent of his roses, the smoke of candles and something that smelled fresh - like lake water - wafting faintly around her.

Think of me,

Already there was a change in her voice with this simplest of gestures.

Think of me waking, silent and resigned.

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