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My little muse is my addiction, and her voice is my drug. If there is a cure to my madness, I don’t want it. I’d rather welcome blissful oblivion.
“You’re my pretty little muse, Scarlett. I worship your voice. Your body, mind, and soul are no different.� “Even the darkness in my mind?� I ask, not sure why it matters if my phantom accepts my madness. “Especially your darkness.�
“I didn’t become the Phantom of the French Quarter without knowing everything that goes on in my city, ma chérie.� “Okay, but why do you know so much about me?� “Because you are everything,� he answers simply.
“You are my moonlight,� I whisper against her shoulder in a kiss. “And you are my midnight,� she murmurs back,
