chapter 16

G uilt. What a fascinating and repulsive feeling. It took nearly a week for the savage fantasies, which relentlessly replayed, to finally subside enough for me to function adequately. So that I could look upon her, teach her, speak with her without every thought being consumed with beautiful memories of pale skin beneath the moonlight.

No matter my desires, our time together was precious. I deserved the discomfort, the masochism that came with such suppression.

In the few months since my intrusion, the many conversations we have had - some which spanned all day - were the most marvelous and aided in restraint.

Per her request, I recounted my many travels across the eastern world. A very diluted version of my time as a performer in traveling shows. The wonders of Persia and the Palace of Illusions, where I met Ardashir. Even how I had come to Paris and partnered in the Garnier's erection.

Sweet Melody saw the world with curiosity. What this desolate man would not give to show it to her. To experience it as she did. Wide eyed and at my side.

It was difficult to pull stories from her in turn. Surprised when I inquired about it. She seldom spoke in detail of home, or of herself much. Short evasive answers seemed to be her favorite, except when she spoke of her mother and sister.

"Again. You are too tense," I said, as she worked on her scales.

"Yeah. No problem. Give me a second?" she asked.

A hint of nervousness hung in the air around her as she hummed looking over the sheet music once more before our last stretch in the night's lessons. She was progressing faster than initially expected. There was much work to be done yet, but she was surprising. The nerves should have subsided by this point.

"Alright. I'm ready," she said, settling back in at the music stand. "I can do this," she whispered to herself.

Though she was far from stage ready, as she ran through once again, I started to believe there was real promise there. That someday, the stage may be made for her as well as Christine.

"How do you feel?" I asked, after she finished.

"I can't believe I just made that sound with my own voice. MY voice! Erique!" she said.

"Less tortured cat."

brown eyes rolled. "Gee, thanks," she said.

What wonderful friendship.

She pulled our copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll from her bag.

"Shall we pick up where we left off yesterday?" I asked.

"Oh, uh, yes. Ok," she said, and dropped into the blue chaise I had moved here for her.

I joined her, settling in behind the backrest where I could still be well hidden. As long as she did not turn around.

"I believe it was my turn to read," I said.

She held out the book over her shoulder.

I reached for the symbol of our mutual love and stilled. Incandescence shot through my fingertips and spread through me like electricity the moment my hand settled upon hers.

Such carelessness.

Yet, this angel did not recoil, nor made any attempt to move.

Not to waste such a moment, I pulled the book from her hand slowly, running my fingers as far along her skin as I could go. To keep contact before she finally dropped her hand, and fingers fidgeted against her lips again.

Difficult as it was to concentrate with what had just transpired, I could not shake the fact that something riddled her mind still.

"What is it, my Angel?" I asked.

"Just a little preoccupied. I'm sorry."

"You need never apologize to me."

My heart fell as her lovely legs swung over the side of the chaise as she sat up. I pushed back further into the darkness without thought.

Her eyes landed in my general direction as she chewing her lip.

I wish she would not do that. Despite the inappropriate setting, my cock threatened life at such a sight.

"Antoinette would like me to come for dinner this evening," she said. "That's why I asked for an earlier lesson."

To know that I would not get to spend the night with her unsettled me, but selfishness would not stop her either. That mistake was already made once and would not be repeated.

‘You could take her home…'

"Then you should go. We will take the night off," I said.

As if the answer did not suffice, words attempted from her mouth, but nothing formed.

"Melody," I said, trying to coax whatever it was from her.

Finally, she shot up from the lounger. "Why don't you come with me?" she asked.

"Melody…" I sighed.

"I mean, I can tell her whatever story you want. It just might be nice for you to get out too. And Antoinette is so kind. I told you how she took me in."

Her sweetness never ceased to take hold. To have dinner with her and her friends. "Yes" was on the tip of my tongue.

Antoinette, though indeed kind, was terrified of me. Even with the financial help over the years in reparation for my deeds while in her care, that would never change.

Imagine this , casually dining? Like I was not a creature. A monster. A spectacle; for just a night.

"Perhaps one day, my angel," I said, hoping the mask in my voice was enough to content her. Assure her that there would be a "one day". Even when I did not believe it.

Her arms crossed her midsection, and she cocked her head to the side. "You know you don't have to hide from me anymore, Erique."

My name rolling off her lips made me want to give her everything. She always said it was such care. Even when flustered with my existence.

"It just feels silly to have you hiding all the time. I mean, I have seen you. Sort of. I know that you're… different. That's ok. They're not going to care either. And if they do, fuck ‘em," she added. "We'll leave."

We…

I believed that she believed she could take the man in the mask. Accept me as that.

Maybe if I hid beneath it?

No. The risk was too great. If she were to snatch the thing from me - I had killed the one person that removed it before because I was foolish to believe…

Only I knew the horror of what lies behind and further below. Every mirror that caught my reflection was in pieces because I could not even stand what was behind it.

Yet, why do I know she would never do such an act?

She would never wrong me, and I would still be the end of her.

I never wanted to give myself a reason to hurt her. I was a monster and that was never going to change. I would crush this angel's mended wings if we got too close.

"You know what, never mind. It was a stupid ask," she said.

The pain of her disappointment stabbed through the bones of my chest and twisted. "No, it is now I who should apologize," I said. "I would love to dine with you. It would bring me great pleasure to share in such a thing."

"Then why won't you? You should know by now I don't give a shit about what you look like. We're friends. And to be honest, I'm starting to question my sanity a little more than when I got here."

"What is me, will haunt you until you no longer breathe. I do not wish to bestow that upon you, my Melody."

This was not the first time and probably would not be the last for this conversation.

"There's no way you're that bad. Or scary. Or however you want to put it." Her voice grew with frustration, certainly on the brink of screaming. "You're just scared."

"Please understand," I said, raising my voice.

"I just…" Defeat crossed her face, and her hands flew into the air. "Ok."

She turned away, glancing around as if looking for something.

"Shall we continue?" I asked, adjusting my tone to calm and ease.

The strap of her bag flew over her head, landing on her shoulder. "I think I'm going to leave earlier," she said, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Good night, Erique."

My blood boiled as I gnashed my teeth. "Yes. Of course. Good night, my dear."

‘You damned waste of flesh,' the Ghost spat .

The shutting of the door jolted my nerves. A cold reminder of the world granted upon me.

She had invited me to dine with her. To come near her. As if we were truly friends of the same flesh. Of the same world.

The book hit the cushion of the lounger. Disappointment fueled the storm building within my core. Words of the past haunted, evoking memories which forced navigation of even simple, innocent desires such as dinner.

I buried my face within shaking hands, gripping hard at the mix of flesh and shame . I had denied an offering from an angel. I had denied myself.

From my throat, fury filled the room. Parchment flew. The chaise rebounded from the parallel wall, falling into pieces. The book fell to the floor, and I was left with the aftermath of my decisions.

‘This never would have happened with Christine.'

"Silence! No more!"