An Interrogation

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"Nadette!" came a shout from the halls, "Madame Martin!"

Before Erik could say anything to her heartfelt request, he found himself being shoved once again toward the mirror.

Casting a quick glance behind her, Nadette looked him dead in the eye, "I will come to see you very soon, Erik. Expect me later tonight."

He could only nod once as the mirror slid shut between them, sparing only a few seconds for her to get back to her piano bench. Nadette's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the white skeletal mask which the phantom had worn that night. She quickly shoved it into the drawer of the writing desk and sat down, feigning that she was attempting to compose.

No sooner than she had picked up her pen did the door fly open, and a rather overwhelmed young Viscount barged into the room.

"Madame. I am truly sorry for the intrusion, but I must ask you. For the sake of everyone here, what you know of the Phantom." He said it quickly, and breathlessly.

Nadette swiveled around on her small stool, raising an eyebrow at the boy, "It's very arrogant of you to assume I know anything at all, young man. Why don't you have a seat. You seem a little out of sorts."

"Madame, I saw how he looked at you tonight. I saw how you looked at him. It was as though he recognized you." He continued, ignoring her request, "You must tell me."

"Monsieur, there is nothing that I must do for you." She said sharply, "And quite frankly, your impetuosity concerns me greatly for someone with such responsibility resting on his shoulders. This is no way for a gentleman to act."

Roul DeChagny felt as though he had just been scolded by his mother, and he found himself looking at the floor. Still, he knew there was something she was hiding. So, he tried a different approach.

"I love her, Madame." He said quietly, "I only want her safe."

When Nadette did not respond, he continued, "I've known her a long time.  Since we were children.  There is very little I wouldn't do for someone I've known that long, Madame.  Christine mentioned that there is good reason for you to share those sentiments, no?"

Nadette let out a dry laugh, "Are you attempting to interrogate me, young Vicomte?"

"No.  No I didn't mean-"

"Christine may say what she likes.  It is nothing to me.  All I shall tell you now is that the man has many secrets. I know very little of them, and fewer still are mine to tell."  With that, Nadette turned her back on the boy, going back to "composing" until she heard the soft click of the door.

Erik remained behind the mirror long after Roul left. She had given him practically nothing of his past, which is more than he could apparently say for Christine. His own angel. She would betray him if she could.

Would Nadette?

He watched her as she placed her hand on the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes tiredly.  She did look beautiful.  Even in her exhaustion, she looked incredible. 

They had both changed so much, and yet not at all.  And she was right.  Too much isolation had been bad for him.  Obsession has begun to overtake him.  He hoped it would not succeed.

He turned away from the room, about to head back to his lair when he heard the mirror slide open once again. In stepped Nadette, who clumsily bumped directly into him, for her eyes had yet to adjust after the mirror shut.

"Oh! I had expected you to be long gone by now, Erik."

He laughed at the little blunder, as it reminded him of happier days, "It's alright. We can't all have my eyesight."

Nadette let out an airy chuckle, "No indeed."

It was then that the two became aware of their position. They each had their arms wrapped around each other in an attempt to steady themselves, and they hadn't bothered to let go. To be perfectly honest, neither of them felt any great desire to.

Nadette's eyes were getting used to the dark, and as she appraised him, something occurred to her, "You look thinner, Erik. You have been eating, haven't you?"

The man looked away briefly, "There's been little time to..."

"Dammit Erik!" She slapped him lightly on the arm, "You must take care of yourself! I have no idea what I would do if something were to happen to you!"

"I'm flattered." He replies dryly.

Nadette pulled him down a little in order to force him to look her in the eyes, "It isn't flattery, you silly man. You mean a great deal to me." She released him, and he stood back up again, "I do not know how I would cope without you here."

Erik was slightly breathless, "Nor I without you, Little Songbird. You make my life a little more bearable."

"All I want for you is to be happy, you know. It's all I've ever wished for you." She confessed, taking his hand and beginning to walk toward his home. In her other hand, Erik noticed his white mask.

"Ah, how careless of me. I didn't even realize I had left it."

"The fault is mine.  I should not have removed it.  Not there." She said simply.

Erik looked at his hand in hers, and recalled their previous conversation.

"I shall try for you, Nadette." He spoke quietly.

She paused, turning back to look at him, "Try?"

"To come back." He continued, meeting her eyes, "I want to try and come back to you."

Nadette's eyes searched his, finding confusion, hesitation, determination.

Almost of its own accord, her hand reached out to caress his marred face, pulling it very gently to hers. Equally as careful, she brushed her lips against his a single time.

Erik felt as if his heart may give out with the quickness of its beat, but it nearly stopped when he heard her whispered apology.

He moved forward to claim her lips again, and she accepted them with a fervor he had never seen.

He found himself tangling his hands in her hair, and she had long since flung away his mask in order to pull him closer to her, and when the two finally broke away, Erik found himself smiling. Truly smiling, and it made him want to sing when he saw that her own expression matched.

Wordlessly, the two continued their journey into his home.

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