part 12
She didn't know why, but the look of a dark-haired man sharpened all her feelings to the limit, making her feel everything around with extraordinary clarity. The hissing of gas lamps in a giant chandelier, a slight breeze of air on his cheek, but most of all - every tiny detail in a man on stage: his unusual movement, his wild look, his tall slender figure. Burning every little thing in her memory.
Even at a distance, it was noticeable that his presence is stunning: just being there, the man seemed to suppress all the other characters on stage. When he gazed at the audience, the burning energy laughed along Brill's ridge, as if it had touched the revived electricity. Brill put her hand on her stomach, trying to cope with the unusual sensations she was experiencing until someone noticed a blush rising up her neck. So did fear. "What is happening to me?
At that very moment, the mysterious masked man opened his mouth and made the most delightful sound Brill had ever heard. Her mind has emptied in one fell swoop. The burden of anxiety on her shoulders melted, leaving her feeling of weightlessness behind. She had never been so powerless in her life and never in her life had she cared as much as she cared about it. Brill could breathe again, her heart was still pounding violently, but more out of pleasure than fear. There was nothing to worry about. All she had to do at that moment was listen, listen to his voice.
The blush that Brill was trying to suppress made her cheeks burst into flames. She got warm, even hot. The man's voice was the echo of heavenly singing. He penetrated the soul, pulling out the emotions on the surface of her heart chained in armor. Brill's eyes began to close against her will, with white eyelashes slightly fluttering over her pink cheeks. For the second time this week she was conquered by the glitter and power of this bizarre opera.
Sudden sighs of indignation around her led Brill out of her brief intoxication. Dreamily opening her eyes, she turned her head and noticed her brother's mouth wide open from shock. Looking back at the scene, she began to take apart some of the words that had confused the audience.
In each phrase, she was passing through an undisguised sensuality. Shocked, Brill pressed her hand to a beating heart: never before had she heard such clear hints in the theatrical play. The blush on her cheeks became even brighter. Contrary to her natural confusion, she could not take her eyes off the couple on stage. The way they moved together, as Christine melted from his touch, it was something magical. It was erotic.
And when Christina started singing, Brill pulled her back into reality. Fear came back to her like a storm on the sea - black, terrifying, and cold. Brill felt bad physically when the pressure in her throat started to rise and was not subsiding anymore, distracting her from the performance. She put her trembling hand to the right temple, trying to dispel the fog in her head caused by the music. The hammers in the whiskey began to beat the opera as if counting the minutes. Christine and the mysterious man slowly climbed the stairs above the stage. The sexual tension of the music has grown to unbearable limits, and at the same time, the pressure in Brill's head has become intolerable.
Suddenly, the world around him leaned back and Brill fainted halfway through. Her head leaned onto the back of her chair, her big gray eyes looking up, right at the impressive chandelier above her head; her corsage rose hard, and she grabbed the air with her mouth cramping.
Brill felt the anxious touch of her brother with her hand. He called her by her name, she knew, but the sounds came through her head humming. Dream paintings shone brightly through her brain, rushing through her eyes over and over again. "The heat of the terrible fire coming down from above... Oh, my God!
Now there was a gentle melody above the stage, but the music couldn't suppress the panic flowing through Brill's veins. The man in the mask gently stroked Christine's face.
Having thrown his brother's hands off her palm, Brill jumped up on her feet; her eyes were still chained to a huge chandelier above them - the figures on the stage were forgotten. Her mouth unwittingly opened, and her bundles were torn apart by a terrible scream at the very moment when Christine Daaaee ripped the mask off the face of a mysterious man. In response to Brill's scream and the man's terrible face, the room was filled with excitement.
***
Kristina stood in front of him, her wide-open eyes radiated sorrow, she let his mask out of her numb hands, and she fell to the floor with a knock. Eric knew that his face should have been affected by a stupid unbelievable expression, but unfortunately, at that moment he seemed unable to think coherently to control his facial expression. Part of him secretly hoped that Christine would not actually follow the Viscount's plan. That she would not play the role of bait in the trap placed on him. This tiny particle shrank and died in his soul when he heard the knock that his mask touched the floor under his feet.
to be continued...