Edited

You’d never been special to the opera. Merely a background dancer if you got lucky, only there because your parents sadly passed and you were taken in by the dance instructor. Until now

Not only did you dance beautifully but sung even better. Magnificently

And while your magnificent voice and gracefulness on point may not have caught the attention of the crowd yet, it caught his attention

It was a late night. Everyone had left the opera for the night. A few strays asleep in the back rooms. The streets of France outside were quiet and still, a rare occurrence for the usually bustling city

Moonlight shone down from the grand glass ceiling, illuminating dust particles like magical dust

You were on your points, practicing around the stage, the only noise in the candle lit darkness, the creak of the wood under you and the swishing of your thin sheer and lace night gown around your legs

You spun and spun and spun, each spin slowing as you panted lightly among the darkness, a gloved hand ghosting your arm before wrapping around your waist gracefully pausing your spinning, your back resting against a chest. The Phantom. Your angel of music

“It’s late. You should be resting, my dahlia” His voice, melodic and mesmerizing, was like gentle breeze in your ear