Of course, it had to be Violetta in her bedroom. Addio, del passato bei sogni ridenti! During their practices, he had often sung to her with Alfredo's part, but now the stage belonged only to her. The weariness, the wretched and violent despondency in her voice now... And the way her voice carried over the auditorium, bright and full and beautiful... Erik leaned forward further, fingers templed. He could listen to her like this for hours.
It felt as if he hadn't heard her for years. His mouth was dry, but the only thirst he felt was for her voice. Silently urging her on, he fixed his eyes greedily on her and followed her every move. That gorgeous pale column just below her chin was nearly as entrancing as the springy mass of dark curls he found himself so fond of. Every time she looked up, he met her gaze.