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Portrait of the Soul	By : sirenofsaturn Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 2723 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Oh my goodness! Thank you so much for all the reviews. In all honesty I got more than I expected. That’s a lot considering I wasn’t expecting any at all. Thank you so much they really help give me a feel on how to write. It helps a lot to know that people out there are reading this and actually enjoying it. So without further delay I give you chapter four! Oh, and please remember to review when you are finished reading. Thank you!

Neko

Opening night was a huge triumph to say the least. The applause of the audience became a familiar sound to the cast and crew as the curtain went up and down between acts. However, the gay delight that was filling most of the opera house did not find its way to box five.

Erik, half-listening, to the performance continued to stare at the portrait. His gaze remained stuck between shock and…delight.

A gift. The only gifts Erik had ever received had been few. Giovanni’s compass had been one of the few gifts he had received out of true kindness. The mask from his mother was more of a gift to herself. If he wore it she would not have to look at his born curse. ‘But she did this for what reason?’ He asked himself.

The portrait was like a mirror. When Erik first looked at it he did not notice that it was charcoal, and had no color. He could have sworn he was staring at his masked reflection. From his shoulders to the top of his head was sketched to scale reflecting his tall slender frame. The smallest bit of skin on his neck showed where his cravat was tied slightly loose. Resting on the thin neck was his head hidden by the white mask that covered most of his face from the forehead down to his misshapen lips. The mask was left surprisingly white except for a few bits of shadowing done to emphasis what normal parts of his face should be under it.

One thing Erik could not get over was his own eyes. Beneath the mask she had captured the slight misshape of them. However, the drawing seemed to focus more on the depth of each eye. Erik could see his lids and lashes, the iris, and the pupil. Erik knew that the odd color did have a tendency to jump out at people, but now he had a clear picture why. In the corner of the picture where the background shadowing ended was the date and a free signature of Mia.

Gazing out to look at her sets Erik noticed there was no one on the stage. The audience was no longer in their seats. He really must have been out of touch with his senses. Silently rising to leave Erik picked up the letter that had fallen out of the scroll case and departed for his underground domain.

Once Erik had safely and securely hung the sketch out to study he went to his desk to tend to the letter. Removing the seal and carefully opening the envelope Erik began to read the letter.

Monsieur Opera Ghost,

I do hope that this letter does find you and that it finds you well. I also would like to begin to say what I do not know how to say. Monsieur, words cannot express how grateful I have become of your presence. It was your presence that first saved my life, and is now helping make my work a perfection. I admit I am still somewhat baffled and surprised of how the managers listen to you. However, seeing as we now have the supplies to make the sets come to life, I have no reason to protest. An artist such as I has always dreamed of having the ability to do something as grand as this.

Monsieur I just wanted to let you know, that your help has helped me further grasp my dream, and strive to the perfection I had only dreamed of accomplishing. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support and generosity.

Sincerely,

Mia Sclar

Erik, for one of the few times in his life, felt dumfounded. In one night he had received an actual gift, and now a letter that was praising him? She was grateful? Any man would have surely assisted a woman in need, or at least a gentleman! Besides was it not his best interest to have the best sets for his opera house? If she did not have the right supplies then his sets would spoil the effect. Mademoiselle Sclar had talent, he only thought it was right to do everything to bring it out.

Maybe it was not right. After all in his life Erik was not the best at deciding the difference between right and wrong. In truth it was one of his worse qualities. Silently considering this Erik still wondered what had possessed this girl to thank him. Thanking him! For his ‘support and generosity’. As she so tenderly put it, like she was writing to a dear old friend. He was not her friend. They had had one acquaintance strictly by accident. The only benefit he had out of their meeting was that had he not been there he would have received a new set designer, with not half the talent!

Why had she thanked him? He was a monster. A horrid, murdering extortionist of a monster, why was she so damn grateful? Erik could not control his feet the just seemed to move without his knowledge. He did not know where they were taking him. All the French man could think about was if her sincerity would fade if she knew who he really was. Would she still have drawn that portrait, ever detail perfect, if she knew what lay behind his mask? Would she have captured the angle of his mismatched eyes, his marred flesh, and half grown nose?

Erik was about to shout these very questions when he realized were his ranting had brought him. There he stood in the dormitories of the crew of the opera house. He had also learned in his observation that the door he was standing in front of was the door to Mia’s room.

Erik looked down at his gloved hand. Gripped in the thin fingers had been his master key. Was he really going to open her door, and start ranting at her? Wake her from her slumber to question her for giving him a simple gift?

It wasn’t simple though, not to Erik. This gift was given to him out of her own free will. Erik knew and had expected nothing of her. She had accomplished something that few people had ever done. She had surprised him. The thrill of surprise was becoming contagious Erik observed. He had come down here without realizing it. Now he found himself quietly unlocking her door and slipping inside her room.

A quick observation told Erik she was asleep. The gas lamp was out, and she was lying in her bed breathing gently and deeply. Lying on her side one hand stood tucked under the pillow while the other curled and rested on breast covered by her night garment. Erik noted that this was the first time a woman had ever slept so soundly in his presence. What the hell was he doing? Sneaking into this woman’s room in the middle of the night? Watching her sleep? The part of Erik that was still in reach of his senses told him to leave. However, the other part told him it was his opera house and his set designer. Did he not have some right to be here?

‘No I do not.’ Erik scolded himself turning around to leave. Not looking were he was walking Erik felt something slide under his boots. The thing let out a piercing scream, causing Erik to lose his footing and fall, very un-Erik like, with a thud on the ground.

Sitting up immediately trying to straighten himself in a mess of cloak limbs, Erik found the source of his fall. Sitting on the edge of the bed was an orange tabby cat, angrily swishing its tail. The slightly crossed gold eyes seemed to stare though Erik. The feline let out a low growl, which was quickly ceased as a hand came to pet the mammal. Erik followed the hand to an arm, and then a shoulder, until he took in the full person of Mia. Normally well-bound hair fell loose and wild over her shoulders and down her back.

Watching her eyes Erik noticed that unlike last time the first thing she focused on was the mask. Then her eyes seemed to shift to his shoulder, then his eyes, then back to the mask. Erik was beginning to wonder if she was in need of spectacles when he realized she was still half asleep. Her frequent eye movements were just poor attempts to get her vision to focus.

Erik was about to attempt to sneak away and out of the room when her voice caught him.

“Did you not like the portrait?”

Big sigh. How was it? Good? Bad? It really is a challenge to write Erik especially sense his moods can shift in the blink of an eye. However, I hope I captured him to meet everyone’s standards. I am in between moving for the summer right now, so I will try to get the next chapter up ASAP. I promise my computer will be the last thing I pack and the first thing I unpack. So I apologize if there is a long delay. Once again thank you for all the reviews! I was not expecting so much support from so many people. Thank you and I would appreciate it if more reviews came! Hint, hint!

Erik/mock shock/ I think she’s trying to hint something.

Why are you so mean to me?

Erik: You write me that way

…No I don’t! You just come out that way!

Erik: sure

Sigh, please review
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Portrait of the Soul