Angel of Doom and an English Rose (Phantom of the Opera)

Chapter 6 - Fury

Rosetta's POV:

I knew I had made a big mistake the moment my finger came in contact with the violin. The reason was because the organ suddenly made a horrible noise and a growl came from behind me. I knew very well that I had made him very mad. 

Before I could move my hand from the violin, his powerful grip grabbed my wrist. I knew that with once twist he could break it. It felt like an iron shackle. I looked up at him and saw pure murder in his eyes.

He placed on hand around my neck and squeezed. Not enough to really injure me but enough to make me very nervous. He pulled me away by the hand on my neck and bent me over one of his arms. He hadn't said was word and that was part of the reason I was more uncomfortable.

He bent his face close to mine and hissed,

"Why did you do that? Don't you know not to touch other people's things?" I tried to nod but he held my neck too tightly.

"Yes, Sir." I croaked out. He smirked and said,

"Than why did you?" I felt the knot of fear in my stomach and forced myself not to show it.  I struggled to say,

"Because, I couldn't stop. Please, let me go." He chuckled menacingly.

"Now, why should I do that? Why shouldn't I kill you?" I winced and knew he would leave bruises on my wrist. He was gripping it so strong that I would be lucky if it wasn't sprained. I licked my lips which had gone dry during the ordeal and tried to think of a reason. There had to be one. Something that would make him understand. He treated the violin like it was his child.

I looked into his eyes and said the first thing that came to my mind,

"Because I want to be your friend. Do you not want a friend?" His eyes went wide and he released he grasp on me. I crumpled to the floor and rubbed my wrist. Well, the bruises weren't too obvious. They were there but one would have only seen them if one had been looking for them.

He stared at me and his mouth hung slightly ajar.

"Friend?" He asked quietly. The danger was gone from his eyes and replaced by shock and disbelief. I nodded. I wanted to be his friend. That was the strange thing about this whole matter. I still wasn't afraid of him. He could have broken my neck but I wasn't afraid. Only for a moment had I been. What was wrong with me?

He looked me over and he drew himself to full height. His eyes turned dark and flashed menacingly. He growled out.

"The Angel of Doom needs no friend. Get out." He pointed at the door and I said,

"Why? We all need friends! Please-" He grabbed my neck again and pushed my towards the door.

"Get out, I said. NOW GET OUT!" He roared and threw me against the wooden door. I flinched on contact. I was beginning to fear him. I pulled myself to my feet and hesitated. He growled out,

"Get out before I kill you." I bit my lip and fled. Tears came to my eyes as I ran down the hallways. I soon found my way to my door and once inside my room, I flung myself onto the bed and sobbed.

All I had wanted was to get to know him and now I had ruined it all because I couldn't keep my hands to myself. I looked in the mirror and fortunately there weren't too many bruises on my neck. I could easily cover them. My wrist, well, I would hope someone didn't notice.

Angel of Doom's POV:

I stared at the door through which she had just fled. My blood cooled and I realized what I had just done. I had just turned down an offer of friendship. A friend. I had no friends and in my anger I had let someone who might have become my friend go. And worse, I had hurt her. I had hurt her in so many ways.

I walked back to my organ and sat down on the bench. I stared at the keys and then a tear slipped free of my eye. And then another, and another. Then they flooded free as I sobbed into my arms. I had almost had a friend. Almost not be alone.

For a while I debated on going to find and begging her forgiveness. But that didn't suit my coldness. Maybe it was better this way. I didn't need to go soft. But, something inside me wouldn't let me leave things as they were.

For the first time in all of my twenty-four years, I felt the need to apologize. I walked over to my desk and pulled a sheet of blank paper from a drawer. Taking a pen carefully in my hand, I began to painstakingly write. I never had been good with writing. It came hard to me. Music was easy but words were so difficult.

Rosetta's POV:

I awoke sometime quite late in the morning and found my breakfast sitting on the table. On it was a note. I picked up the note and say that the writing was quite poor and done in red ink. I tore it open and then unfolded the letter within. It read as follows:

TO: Rosetta Williams

FROM: Angel of Doom

Ms. Rosetta,

I feel I must apologize for my behavior last night. It was quite unacceptable. I shouldn't have been so angry with you. You understand not my ways and I was being unnecessarily harsh by expecting you to understand. I would prefer you not to keep trying to find me. It will put you in grave danger.

I cannot control my anger. I have no heart and therefore being around me is very dangerous. Please keep this in mind and do not search for me again. Your offer of friendship, though tempting, should be discarded by you as a foolhardy attempt. Don't not try it again.

Angel of Doom

I looked the letter over and sighed. Glancing at the bruises, I set my jaw in a firm line. I was still in the same dress as I had been for the past thirty-six hours so I changed quickly and found my way back to his rooms. If he thought he was going to get rid of me with just a letter he was much mistaken.

I knocked on the door and he called,

"Come in." I opened the door and walked in. He was sitting at his organ with his back to me.

"What does the Shah want today?" He asked quite nonchalantly. He must have thought I was a maid.

"Sir, I am not a maid. I came to talk to you about your letter." I kept my voice firm and he slowly turned to look at me. His face showed no expression whatsoever and I was for one moment under the delusion that he was angry.

He stood up and said,

"I meant every word. Stay away from me." He turned to walk into his room when I asked,

"Do you want a friend? Do you want someone who doesn't fear your outbursts of anger and the cold heart you claim to possess?" He kept his back to me but said softly.

"Yes, yes, I do want one." I noticed his hands were shaking and his shoulder weren't as rigid as they always were. He looked like a caged bird who lived alone but who wanted to be free and with the company of others.

I walked up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the touch and remained stiff as a board as I said,

"Then you have one. I don't fear your anger. Just, please, try to keep the bruising to a minimum." He turned to look at me and carefully removed my hand from his shoulder. He licked his lips and said,

"We're friends now?" I nodded and extended my hand to him. He looked at it then took it gently in his own. He kept staring at it before saying,

"Friends." And smiled a real smile.