Consider this, if you will… Phantom of the Opera 76! Maybe he falls in love with an struggling artist that paints the backgrounds for the Opera house, or one of the extra dancers. Ugh, the possibilities! I love your writing!💖🖤💖

bloodandarrows:

God I actually love this. 

I may write another part if people like it?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOzA1O911FQ

– Admin Wolfe

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Phantom of the Opera (Soldier 76 x Reader)

Hovering between the heavy crimson curtains, Jack tilted his head as he watched the scene below. The last glimpses of sunlight filtered through the small windows, casting soft shadows to scatter across the room as the last few dancers packed up their equipment to leave. A low ‘boom’ resonated through the hall as the last dancer shut the large wooden doors behind her. Walking across one of the high banisters, the silver-haired man took hold of one of the curtains in his large hands before effortless swinging to land on a lower beam. Sitting beside the still-hot theatre lights, he brought a knee to his chest, a soft smile grazing his lips as he watched you slip quickly across the auditorium with a large bundle of paints and brushes under each arm.

Placing your equipment on the stage, you swept a loose lock of hair behind your ear as you struggled to climb up onto the stage yourself. With a breathless laugh, you giggled at your own attempts as you finally knelt on the stage with a soft grunt – little did you know that up above you Jack was laughing silently along with you.  Spreading your brushes before you, you selected a large brush and walked towards the large canvas you had been working for the past month. It was a beautiful landscape painting of lake – the water was so realistic, that is seemed to trickle with each stroke of the brush.  

Gently sighing, you placed your hands on your hips as you critiqued your work. Anyone could tell you were extremely talented – but life as an artist was hard and your boss wasn’t willing to pay you an awful amount for your art… but then again, you really needed the money. Spinning on your heels, you began to scurry around backstage before you found what you were looking for. Taking the old stereo with both hands, you lugged it back towards you work before tapping the buttons as you searched for a signal. An old song crackled through the old speakers as you turned it up.

“I don’t care if Monday’s blue…
Tuesday’s grey and Wednesday too,
Thursday I don’t care about you
It’s Friday I’m in love…”

Swinging your hips to the music, you hummed along as you began painting. With each stroke you took, the painting came to life before your eyes. Bringing a knee to his chest, Jack watched you with fascination… He’d be lying if he didn’t love watching you work. Hell, he’d wait in anticipation till Fridays for you. Leaning against the light, he sang along to the music, closing his eyes as he felt the music warm his heart a little. Part of him wished that he could somehow talk to you… But, how could he? Surely you’d be absolutely terrified if he swung down to meet you. Jack wasn’t stupid, he knew he was a little intimidating, to say the least… Dressed in black suit pants and an old shirt, his blue eyes sparkled whenever he saw you.

“…Saturday wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate…”

Spinning around to the music, your long skirt flared outwards as you danced, your hair flowing as you sang, your pink lips smiling blissfully. Totally forgetting about the painting,  you grew lost in the music as you closed your eyes. Heart hammering violently in his chest, Jack rested cheek against palm happily. You were so beautiful… and so precious to him. He desperately wanted to tell you how much you meant to him. He had been there every day as you worked, he knew exactly how your body moved when you danced, how your nose screwed up a little as you danced and how you always kicked your shoes off when you began painting. Yet, he also knew nothing about you, and it was slowly killing him…