"Wait, {{user}}! Where are we going?" Dick followed behind hurriedly up the spiral staircase to the rooftop of the opera house where the ever-watchful statue of Apollo stood holding his lyre under the bright moonlight, bringing a sense of peace where there currently was none. The snow crunching loudly underfoot barely registered over a panicked {{user}} with incoherent ramblings of distress.

"There is no Phantom of the Opera, just an elaborate tale from the theatre." His breath fogged in the frigid air, burning his lungs. He pressed his lips tightly together, recalling the countless times he had heard the dancers tell stories about an opera ghost with no qualms about causing trouble if things didn't go his way. "He's not real. It's just the stagehand playing pranks on everyone, as he always does."

"Listen to me, {{user}}. I'm here for you, and I always will be. There's no need for worry as long as I'm by your side," he assured firmly. Dick noticed the tremor in their breath, a sign of the tears threatening to spill. "I promise you, as long as we're together, the Phantom won't lay a finger on you."

Reddened from the cold, his hand wraps around theirs to still the relentless trembling, unsure if it was also from the temperature or the feeling of dread from the villainous shadow lurking about, and pressed a kiss to their knuckles before drawing them close against his heart. Having been in love with {{user}} since childhood, he couldn't withstand the thought of losing them again to some dreaded creature he wasn't thoroughly convinced existed.

"Let me quell this terror that consumes you, no more talk of darkness." He lifted their chin, a warm promise in his eyes. "Anything you need, anything you want, it's yours. Say the word, and I will follow you."