Categories > Books > Phantom of the Opera > Old love never dies
Cecile
my whole body shook when i felt my eyes open. against my skin was silk and wool, and againt my head was the softest pillow i had ever felt. my body began warming up against the cloths wrapped around me, and my eyes completely opened to a completely different room then the one i saw into when i passed out. the room was decorated with music seets, red walls and a battered chandeller above me. i instantly knew which it was, it was the one that the phantom shattered the night he ruined carlota's singing carrer in el muto, and nearly killed christine. my breath grew still with my surroundings, reconizing everything in the room from stories my mother use to share. the music i reconized, the furniture, everything had a story. i looked to my side and saw a fresh piece of music, looked as if it was freshly written. i picked it up and i gasped. the song was titled "all i ask of you" the song my mom sang, the special song between her and my father, and the last thing my mother ever sang with the phantom.
"do you like music?" said a voice. i jumped, and there at the doorway was a man, close to my age, possibly older. His jet black hair and bright blue eyes made me think at first this could be the phantom, but i shut out the idea when i realised that his face wasn't disfigured at all, if anything it was rather normal, plus at his age it would be impossible. i quickly put the piece down and sat up further, and felt my body shivver.
Kristopher
"you should stay boundled up," i walked over to her and helped pull the blankets up further. it felt a little okward letting her sleep in my room, but i knew that Erik woldn't want her to stay in his room, and i couldn't leave her on the floor. I looked down at her as she still shivvered when she was covered neck down in blankets and i felt absolutely terrible.
"How, how did you get all this stuff?" she asked looking around the room again.
"It's all Eriks, i just use it to keep up with my music studies"
"Erik? is he here?" she perked up at the sound of his name, i grew curious.
"no, he went out" she gave me a curious look.
"really? that doesn't sound like the man my mom described" i looked at her strangely as well.
"Your mother knows Erik?"
"Yes, her name is Christine, i'm sure you've heard about her for sure,"
"no, i'm afraid not,"
she nearly jumped from the bed.
"What? you have all this music, the chandeleer, everything, and you don't even know the stories behind them?" she pointed to the music she picked up earlier. "you don't know how Erik made that song?" she pointed to the chandeller. "you don't know how that became so mattered and broken?" she gave me a thousand mile stare, i just shook my head.
"i'm afraid i don't even know your name." she flushed at my comment.
"My name is Cecile, but that isn't the important thing here!"
"Well we'll talk about it later, right now you need to stay warm, that water is colder then ice anymore, and you are shivvering like mad" i tried getting her to lay back down on the bed, but she refused.
"Well who are you? how do you know Erik?" so many questions she had.
"My name is Kristopher, and i know Erik because he saved me from the fire when i was an infant, he has kept me here since"
she lit up again. "The fire! you at least know how the fire started, correct?" i shook my head again. she sighed. "i would guess Erik would keep these stories from you, it's of a past he may not want to remember," she finally layed down, and her shivvering started to calm down. i had only known this girl for a few minutes and already i had so many questions for her, but before i could ask she was asleep again. i sighed as i stood up to go get more blankets, if i could find any.
my whole body shook when i felt my eyes open. against my skin was silk and wool, and againt my head was the softest pillow i had ever felt. my body began warming up against the cloths wrapped around me, and my eyes completely opened to a completely different room then the one i saw into when i passed out. the room was decorated with music seets, red walls and a battered chandeller above me. i instantly knew which it was, it was the one that the phantom shattered the night he ruined carlota's singing carrer in el muto, and nearly killed christine. my breath grew still with my surroundings, reconizing everything in the room from stories my mother use to share. the music i reconized, the furniture, everything had a story. i looked to my side and saw a fresh piece of music, looked as if it was freshly written. i picked it up and i gasped. the song was titled "all i ask of you" the song my mom sang, the special song between her and my father, and the last thing my mother ever sang with the phantom.
"do you like music?" said a voice. i jumped, and there at the doorway was a man, close to my age, possibly older. His jet black hair and bright blue eyes made me think at first this could be the phantom, but i shut out the idea when i realised that his face wasn't disfigured at all, if anything it was rather normal, plus at his age it would be impossible. i quickly put the piece down and sat up further, and felt my body shivver.
Kristopher
"you should stay boundled up," i walked over to her and helped pull the blankets up further. it felt a little okward letting her sleep in my room, but i knew that Erik woldn't want her to stay in his room, and i couldn't leave her on the floor. I looked down at her as she still shivvered when she was covered neck down in blankets and i felt absolutely terrible.
"How, how did you get all this stuff?" she asked looking around the room again.
"It's all Eriks, i just use it to keep up with my music studies"
"Erik? is he here?" she perked up at the sound of his name, i grew curious.
"no, he went out" she gave me a curious look.
"really? that doesn't sound like the man my mom described" i looked at her strangely as well.
"Your mother knows Erik?"
"Yes, her name is Christine, i'm sure you've heard about her for sure,"
"no, i'm afraid not,"
she nearly jumped from the bed.
"What? you have all this music, the chandeleer, everything, and you don't even know the stories behind them?" she pointed to the music she picked up earlier. "you don't know how Erik made that song?" she pointed to the chandeller. "you don't know how that became so mattered and broken?" she gave me a thousand mile stare, i just shook my head.
"i'm afraid i don't even know your name." she flushed at my comment.
"My name is Cecile, but that isn't the important thing here!"
"Well we'll talk about it later, right now you need to stay warm, that water is colder then ice anymore, and you are shivvering like mad" i tried getting her to lay back down on the bed, but she refused.
"Well who are you? how do you know Erik?" so many questions she had.
"My name is Kristopher, and i know Erik because he saved me from the fire when i was an infant, he has kept me here since"
she lit up again. "The fire! you at least know how the fire started, correct?" i shook my head again. she sighed. "i would guess Erik would keep these stories from you, it's of a past he may not want to remember," she finally layed down, and her shivvering started to calm down. i had only known this girl for a few minutes and already i had so many questions for her, but before i could ask she was asleep again. i sighed as i stood up to go get more blankets, if i could find any.
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