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 Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2014 8:13 pm
Backdated before Das GiftIt took a long time to find a reason to pick up the phone and even just send a text. What was she supposed to say? Now that we've had sex, you want to hang out sometime?
She'd never been the one to approach Alois... he'd always been the one to pass in and out of her life like a rain cloud, a black spot in the pastel colors. Orah had no idea how to entice him to do it again... and it seemed wrong to not try. She was aware that some people were fine sleeping with someone and never seeing them again, but she didn't think she could be one of those people. She didn't want to be one of those people, even though she had made a wonderful start at it.
The tacky back of the small note stuck to brown fingers as the young woman played with it, passing it from forefinger to middle finger and back as she studied the notes scrawled across them in pencil and the letters written below them. As though she needed the letters to read the notes... he knew she could read music, though it was a little bit of a surprise that he knew how to write it. Not many people did... which actually gave Orah something, a small connection with which she could again bridge the gap between her and her first.
Her heart fluttered strangely as she slid her phone open, straight white teeth worrying her lower lip as she scrolled to the number she wanted. Would he even want to see her again? He had hinted at it, when he said she had his number... but what would he be expecting from her? What would being the first to reach out say to him? For that matter, what did she want from him? She had decided the gap between them was too great, that they were too different, that she was simply unable to like him... and then he had kissed her and everything had fallen apart. She'd fallen apart, letting herself get carried away in the excitement of having someone finally show desire for her. And, yes, she wanted to feel it again... but she could settle for simply seeing him again, making sure what she had done wasn't a mistake...
SMS:
You wrote me music notes. Do you play an instrument?
Her phone whooshed softly as the message pinged away, her traitorous heart giving a little lurch of excitement. There was no telling when he'd reply to her... she knew so little about him, about what he did when he wasn't at her shop or walking her home from the community garden. She knew he walked in the rain, smoked cigarettes, used to live with someone and now lived with someone else, liked black and white photos... but it was so little.
The young woman settled back against her bed, staring up at the ceiling as her thoughts wandered, her phone resting on her stomach under a relaxed hand.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 9:58 pm
The buzzing sounded on the shelf above the bed, where Alois learned to store his daily necessities. It rattled obnoxiously, breaking his concentration while he worked at a recently transcribed piano piece. Initially he ignored it; rarely had he ever received texts, and rarer still were they urgent. Afterward he continued to play the song per measure, carefully comparing his notes and timing to what played in the original piece. Frowning slightly, he immediately realized the error by the measures played through one meticulously placed earbud: he transcribed one of the notes incorrectly.
Before he managed to correct his mistake, a reminder buzz sounded from his phone. Finally the Saarlander pulled himself from his activities to check the text for any pressing matters. If Quenton is sending me mouse pictures again, I'm pissing on his toothbrush. Yet curiously enough, Orah's name read across the cracked and battered screen.
Orah. How curious that you contacted me. For one so meek, it must be quite the stretch outside your comfort zone. Do you feel desperate in being the first to reach out? Or are you frustrated that I haven't crawled to your doorstep for another round? Alois accessed the message to find a relatively simple text displayed on the screen. It offered no hint toward their prior meeting beyond the mention of music notes, and all information solicited sounded maddeningly similar to small talk.
He hated small talk.
Frowning, Alois responded in curt fashion, thumbs working across the keys to produce a response.SMS:
I play piano & harmonica. I am surprised to see you texted. If nothing else, Orah's interference entertained a quick break from the hours he spent on the keyboard. Additionally, Quenton was not due home for a while; beyond reading idiotic philosophy books or screwing off with the sculptor's art supplies, Alois lacked a stimulating means to whittle away the time. Texting a newly-minted lover proved involving enough. Grinning, he wrote a second response.SMS:
You're also beating around the bush.
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 5:26 pm
The soft trill of her phone pulled Orah out of a light doze and she frowned for a moment before she realized it was her phone making the noise, and that said noise was a text message. Blinking as she realized she'd gotten a response, she jerked the phone up and flipped to the message, her heart sinking at the reply.
Surprised? Why would he be surprised? Was she not supposed to text him? He'd said she had his number, implying contacting him was okay, but what if it had just been something you say so as not to seem rude? Was there some kind of implied social que about not contacting someone? Her mind rolled with the questions, making her feel confused, vulnerable, and completely out of her element. Obviously, what had happened was not as big of a deal to him as it was to her. She knew he'd slept with other people before, that much had been obvious, but... some consideration would have been nice. Something from him other than 'I'm surprised to see you texted'...
The second trill broke her from her thoughts and the young woman blinked at her phone, seeing the new message. Her face heated as she frowned, fiddlying with the buttons. She wasn't avoiding anything... unless it was the topic of sex with him. Was that what he was expecting? Some kind of acknowledgement of what had happened, or a request for another tryst?
The young woman felt like she started and deleted half a dozen replies before she finally settled on one.
SMS:
I am not beating around the bush. It is a legitmate introduction to a proposal. If you had said no, it would have made my request a moot point.
He didn't need to know that the proposal itself had not occured to her until the moment before... but now that it had, she had something to talk to him about, and possibly a way to see him again. A way that didn't embarrass the hell out of her, even. A second message was sent after the first, getting straight to the point as he seemed to want.
SMS:
I have my last concert as a student coming up. I need help practicing my solo piece, and I was hoping you could play accompaniment. Consider it returning a favor, but I promise I will make it worth your while.
It didn't occur to her, what she implied with that promise... but he would take it how he wanted to. Text messages could only convey so much without tone and body language... which was probably why his simple messages freaked her out so much, assuming the worst behind them.
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Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2014 8:10 pm
Alois chuckled when her first response arrived, running his thumb over the very base of the screen while he read over the curiously distant message. A quick retort came to mind almost immediately, and he set to work on the keys once more. The '4' button crunched defiantly from one too many beers spilt on its surface.SMS:
So defensive. Shortly before he hit 'send', a second message cropped up in the window, further preventing him from tooling with his draft. With a seething huff, he canceled out of viewing his latest text in order to mail off the response. Afterward, he keyed over to the new message to find a curious new reveal about Orah's life as a student. So you invest in music as well... I suppose that's not terribly surprising. And what Instrument does Orah play, if any? Surely not the meat flute. Though the thought of it coaxed a lopsided smirk to his features. Gaze hooded in easy enjoyment, he reread the message before offering his response to the matter.SMS:
Okej, I could assist. There is a 4 octave here, not useful if your piece spans beyond its range. Alex's house offers a true piano but I noticed it needs some tuning. Take your pick or offer a third option. SMS:
And be mindful of your promises. After sending off the last message, he returned his phone to its earlier location on the shelf before resuming the music looping through his earbud. His ear ached from the long-term nestling of mesh against sensitive skin, and instead opted to reroute the sound through true speakers. Afterward he resumed meticulously scribbling out and revising sheet music rendered specifically from the piano portions of the song, before layering it with a piano interpretation of the melody.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 10:22 am
The trill came and Orah frowned at her phone, worrying her lip with her teeth. Defensive? Feeling herself getting worked up, the young woman suddenly realized he was baiting her and she let her breath out in a long sigh. She had known he enjoyed seeing her annoyed, so why she let him do it... Her thumbs ran over the keys of her phone, head back on her bed as she held the phone over head. Two more messages arrived and it forced her to edit what she was typing, but at least he was cooperating.
SMS:
You're teasing me. I should know better by now. Alex's house is out, I need a true tone. Are you at home then? If its easiest, I can come there, otherwise the teacher will give me access to the music room after school.
Mindful of her promises, hmm? She'd already planned to bring something along to bribe him with... if it would take more than that, well, she'd have to work something out with him.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 10:47 am
Alois managed very little progress before his phone went off again, successfully breaking his concentration. Tossing the pencil atop the nest of papers, he finally decided to forsake the endeavor entirely for as long as Orah insisted on texting him. Afterward he changed the tune playing to something more appropriate to his tastes and crossed from desk to bed to check the waiting message. A touch of the button displayed her text, and he smirked as he scrolled through the entirety of it.SMS:
I always tease. You make it too rewarding. Coming here is simplest; ready when you are. After typing out Quenton's address and apartment number, he sent off the text. Tossing the phone on the bed, Alois headed toward the postage stamp of a closet the pair shared and changed from Quenton's tortured loungewear to his typical array of black attire. The summer months offered no reprieve from the heat, yet the particular shirt he chose had zip-out sleeves to prevent too much overheating while still sporting typical goth wear. A portion of him still bristled from sight alone of his naked arms, but he allowed himself little time to consider it. Shutting the closet door, he passed back toward the desk to rearrange his work-in-progress to a state both meticulous and easily filed away for later access.
To pass the remaining time for Orah's arrival, he sat at the keyboard to practice scales and exercises as warm-ups for impending playing.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 11:28 am
While she hadn't planned on doing this tonight, the address and expressed readiness making her wonder what the point would be in waiting. She did want to see him again, even if he had a horrible habit of teasing her.
Preparation took a little time though, after she sent a confirmation back... finding the music she wanted online and printing out the score, packing a small bag with her bribe and deciding what she wanted to wear... The choice had never been so difficult before. How much was too much? How much skin was she comfortable showing and how casual should it be? Everything she owned as casual, in a fashion... and she knew it was best to just be herself. That's the person he knew, the one he would expect. Finally she settled on something simple and summery, trying hard to ignore the little voice in the back of her head. Then there was the trip to the apartment... it was too far to walk like she would normally and public transportation was unappealing... In the end, the young woman appropriated her father's car with the excuse she was practicing for school and made the drive, pulling up outside the building.
At last, Orah stood outside the front door in her halter top and jean shorts, a bag over her shoulder and a folder of music in her arm, her hair gathered up in a loose bun on the back of her head. Tucking loose tendrils of hair behind her ear, she reached to hit the appropriate buzzer button, her lower lip between even white teeth. He had said he lived with someone... it made her wonder why the sudden change in residence. Part of her whispered she should know quite well why, but without him saying the words, it was so much easier to just blissfully ignore it. Hopefully she was intruding on anything here, invading space where she wasn't wanted. He'd invited her here, it should be fine... but the young man had an annoying habit of doing exactly what he pleased despite what others might want.
When the button was released, Orah suddenly found herself hoping he hadn't laid some sort of trap for her in the apartment, a grimace crossing her face. Somehow, she would not be surprised. He'd done it before, after all. Sometimes his mind worked in ways that baffled her and there was no way to know what he might have concocted in the time between the text messages and now. Dang it... she should have gotten here faster and denied him scheming time.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 12:16 pm
In preparation, Alois cracked open the window to air out the remaining scent of sex. Afterward he considered absconding with Faust from his pillow and tossing him outdoors onto Quenton's pathetic excuse for a balcony, but a more entertaining idea came to mind. Instead he simply set the cat atop the bed with a gentleness that belied some of his more diabolical tendencies, choosing to instead tend to straightening up the apartment. In living with Quenton, he learned that the blonde often lost himself to thoughts not entirely centered on his actions, and occasionally left behind wire wrapping not yet put away or Faust's used food dish. These items were whisked away to their proper trappings quickly, which left the apartment looking both neat and tidy.
The remainder of time spent before the buzzer went off was devoted to rearranging Quenton's bookshelves in precisely opposite order of their typical setup. The buzzer stirred Faust into a half-lidded wakefulness, as cats often adopted, and Alois took advantage of his bleariness to usurp the feline for a boa. Gripping each paw, Alois struggled to set the rather large cat against his shoulders in a comfortable and stable manner. Once he was sure of the result, he held fast to kitty paws and approached the door to greet his visitor.
Alois leaned shoulder against the flat of the door after opening it, regarding the short brunette coolly. He offered no recognition of the cat on his shoulders, and simply looked her over for a moment. "Hello again, Orah."
Faust huffed. Were it nightfall, he'd have no issues shredding into this fool's shoulders and bounding off with Thraen for some a**-kicking action, but the sun still hung in the sky, which meant he had a few solid hours yet to nap. Unfortunately, Quenton lived with an a** who exhibited no recognition of personal space or respect - hence his current position. He grunted, blinking an unimpressed (read: irritated) gaze toward the young woman at the door. "Mrrrr. Mrh."
Alois pressed his back flat against the door, propping it open to its widest sweep. The music picked up again, playing an old tune from one of many CDs that made the journey from Germany to America. "A school assignment is such a cold, cold excuse to see me. Oh, how you wound me so sharply," he teased, mirth apparent in his eyes. "I hope you brought sheet music; I'm not terribly good at improv accompaniment."
Finally Faust loosed an annoyed meow and wriggled slightly. He lay pinned between shoulders and door, which offered no room to move.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 12:50 pm
There were a thousand different things Orah had been expecting when Alois opened the door, but what she found trumped even her active imagination.
The young man dressed all in black with a fur stole around his neck... that was actually an annoyed, squirming cat, while strange, gothic music played through the apartment. For a long moment, she just stood and blinked at him, just... taking in everything and processing it.
"Ah, um.. Hello, Alois." She said as she came back to herself, trying to keep her lips from twitching up into a smile. "You've got something... just there." The young woman lifted a forefinger to indicate his neck area. "It looks like a bit of fluffy annoyance that's about to shred your ear."
Shifting around him, she stepped into the apartment with eyes sweeping to take in the living arrangements. It was a sharp difference from the last place, and... there was very little about Alois to it. There was another personality dominating this place and she could only assume it was the man he lived with. Alois's comment made her face heat and she dropped her eyes as she pulled her bag off over her head, setting it down on the kitchen table.
"I had to find some excuse..." She said as she pulled a container out and a pair of plastic forks. "You're always the one coming to me, it was hard to come up with something." And I couldn't just say I wanted to see you just to see you... what ties do we have, really? Would you have agreed otherwise? And admitting there is some connection between us brings up questions I'm afraid to face.
Turning abruptly, she came back to the door and tugged him lightly by the hem of his shirt, tan fingers pinching the black material without making contact with skin. Her look was a little playful, something of a smile curling her lips.
"Why don't you put your friend down before you mimic Van Gogh? I brought you something." Bribe time, go.
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Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 3:17 pm
Alois looked toward the area pointed out, eyes scanning everywhere around the cat, before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't see anysing," he answered bluntly.
Faust huffed in his ear. You're lucky Quenton likes you or you'd have a helluva lotta scars to hide, goth boy. I'm definitely pissin' in your shoes tonight... The cat's gaze diverted toward Orah, standing in the doorway, and he shifted about again to try to get her attention. As he managed so, part of the bandage shifted upward revealing the bottom of a golden star. With a quick grunt, the cat pawed at the bandage to secure it safely once again.
"Why do you haf' to come up wis' anysing at all?" He asked, watching her movements toward the kitchen. The pennies captive beneath epoxy shone brightly in the afternoon sun - glinting upward toward her bag that sat on its surface. "It seems a silly pretense, does it not? If you wanted to see me, zen come see me. I did ze same wis' you half ze time; why should it differ in reversal?" Finally he drew away from the door, letting it shut with a click behind him. "We don't always haf' to lif' by preexisting standards, Orah. Zey are just convenient for use around strangers, and I don't sink we can call each ozzer strangers any longer." A stranger doesn't know your name, where you sleep at night, what color your panties are, what pleases you, what pains you...
Sensing an opening, Faust jumped down as soon as possible and hit the ground with a solid thud. He scampered toward the table, darting between the girl's slender legs before he sought refuge beneath a chair. Usually Alois never bothered him there, let he felt the need to shift the chair around in yet another game of Crush the Tail. He meowed plaintively.
During that time, Alois felt Orah's fingers grasp his shirt in a relatively respectful manner, tugging him toward the table. Instead he clasped hand over her wrist, halting her progress by firm hold. "Someone needs to teach you how to bargain, Orah. You never show all your cards to your opponents in a game of poker, do you? It's similar in bargaining - you need not share spoils before work is claimed." But given that sweet smell... I wonder if it's something good. The forks are a thorough indicator. "Ask yourself - is a piano accompaniment really all you want from me today? No need to settle for less, Orah."
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Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 4:17 pm
The struggling motion drew her eyes just in time to see a glint of gold and it gave Orah pause, her brown eyes widening as the cat leaped from his 'owner's' shoulders to hit the floor and hide under the table. She had been about to duck down after him when a hand closed around her wrist and stopped her, pulling her attention back to the other human in the room.
Her cheeks flushed hotly at what he implied by not being strangers any more. No, you certainly couldn't call a man a stranger when he'd pulled some rather embarrassing sounds from your lips. That was part of the problem, actually... and she let out a breath of frustration at herself.
"I needed a reason, because I don't know what to call this." She said, pressing her lips together as she glanced around the apartment, not meeting his eyes. "Which makes it rather hard to know what acceptable behavior is. Its not like I've ever... slept with anyone else. You could have as easily decided you were done with me."
The young woman shook the wild strands of hair out of her face as she glanced back at him, lashes lowered. "We already bargained on the phone. I said I'd make it worth your while and I figured fulfilling my part of it first would put you in a better mood to cooperate for the rest of it. Hunger is distracting, isn't it?" It would have been easier to simply leave it at that, but of course he would never make things easy for her. It was contrary to his nature.
"As far as wanting something else from you... I hadn't thought that far ahead." Her voice was carefully nonchalant, almost teasing. Did she want more from him? A voice in the back of her mind whispered yes, but admitting it was not something she was quite ready to do. This whole thing wasn't something she found it easy to put into words.
Ruthlessly, she reminded herself of the evidence all around her, cooling her hormones somewhat. There was still a lot he hadn't told her and questions she would need to ask him. There was no way to deny that this studio apartment was not meant for two single men to share... which meant he had lied to her, at least by omission. The thought of that boyfriend living here was a rather good dampener. What was she doing, thinking about things that were beyond platonic?
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Posted: Tue Jun 17, 2014 6:01 pm
"Don't call it anysing. I'f lived wis' Quenton for a while now and we'f never quantified our relationship srough names, categories. Zere's no need to define and compartmentalize everysing, Orah." Alois latched the door after releasing her grasp. Passing toward the kitchen table, he looked over the bag Orah brought along. "It's never bad to haf' questions. It gives you reason to explore." To prove his point, Alois began poking through the contents of her bag, looking for her portion of the bargain.
"And zat, Orah, is why someone needs to teach you how to bargain. If you reward me for nossing, what's to say I will do ask you ask?" Without angling his head, he looked up toward her with an impish smirk. "Starving artists are everywhere - as are starving musicians. Some don't make money, but others rather like to starf'e. I take it you haven't read Ein Hungerkünstler*? 'Starving is an art, and I do it well. I do it so it feels like hell.' Zose stanza are a bit tweaked to fit ze subject, but it fits nonzeless."
Finally he straightened up, abandoning his search. Pressing palms to back, he leaned backward in a light stretch, popping several vertebrae. "You see, Orah, I like to starf'e. It's a travesty zat Quenton sought to fatten me up again. Es ist egal**, I suppose it worked out for ze better in ze end." I approached the point where I couldn't stand without assistance. And had I thought him weak between word and action, I likely wouldn't be here. The hospital perhaps, but...
The music switched over suddenly, rousing him from his thoughts. Alois frowned slightly but offered no commentary on the matter. Instead he motioned for Orah to follow him past the privacy screen and into the bedroom portion of the apartment, where the single twin bed sat beneath a few shelving units. The keyboard in question stood not far from the window, with one of two chairs pulled to offer seating to the pianist. "Let me look at ze sheet music; it'll gif' you time to sink about what else you might want from me." Offering a playful sidelong glance, he extended his hand for the papers.
Faust crept out from the confines of his hiding place, offering a low grunt before he fully emerged. And when he was certain that Alois looked far too distracted with their current company, Faust leapt from chair to table and sniffed around the bag left unattended. Once he located an opening, the large feline shoved his head inside brazenly and looked for the source of the sweet scents.Bluefire Dragonz New song* [German] The Hunger Artist, a Franz Kafka short story.** [German] It doesn't matter.
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Posted: Tue Jun 17, 2014 7:02 pm
Don't call it anything... he really did like to make her life difficult.
Still... she was oddly disappointed when he let go of her wrist, a feeling brushed off as he moved to start digging in the bag she brought. Her eyes widened and she had to resist snatching it out of his hands, her fingers curling into fists at her side. Her henshin pen was in there, tucked under the boxes... he might not even know what the bit of purple and gold was, but she didn't want to take that chance. It made it hard to focus on what he was saying as she moved to hover over his shoulder, all but willing him to find nothing interesting beyond the cake and strawberries.
When he gave her a mischievous look, she crossed her arms under her chest and gave him a stern one back, an eyebrow lifted.
"I already knew that about you... though I also know there are certain things you can't resist very well. A normal person would take payment and fulfill their end of the deal, but I keep forgetting you're not normal." It was a dull barb, but it was hard to resist returning his. She refrained from commenting on the fattening up part... she had never minded the line of bones showing through his skin, though she couldn't deny having a little flesh to them was pleasing. He might not be classically beautiful as society liked to define it, but she had always found him more attractive than was good for her.
Following him past the screens, she handed the folder over into the waiting hand and let him peruse the measures of A Hundred Years while she went back to the table to straighten up the bag he'd pawed through. The young woman was startled to find a large, furry body stuffed into the opening. She made soft cht cht sounds as she gently tweaked the corner of the bag to see if the cat would pull his head out.
"The cake isn't for you, sweetheart, but I might be able to save you some if you like that sort of thing... I know another cat that loves cake. There isn't anything else in there except my favorite pen, down at the bottom." Orah murmured, her voice lowered to the croon any girl makes at a cute animal. "What's your name, hmm? Handsome boy... something special about you, I think."
There were only so many ways to hint that she knew what this cat was and that she was a friend, without rousing suspicions in the man across the room... Might be best to simply let him dig in the bag for now and maybe make a stop here later in a different guise. Orah offered her hand for the cat to sniff, if he should so please, while she turned her attention to Alois again, the song coming from the speakers a pleasant change from the last song, even if she didn't understand a word they were saying.
"That is a pretty popular song with the girls at school. Everyone wanted the seniors to do contemporary music for this concert and my teacher wanted something that would make me work on expressing emotion... It was hard to decide on what to sing." Think about what else she wanted... he was fishing for something and she was fairly sure she knew exactly what it was. He hadn't asked, last time, but seemed set on getting her to this time. Maybe that would have to be part of the bargain... maybe she should make him work for it, in return for ignoring the fact that they were in someone's apartment. A little unspoken negotiation... while she tossed her good sense out the window again.
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Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 3:49 pm
"I prefer being abnormal to playing a doormat." You have a long way to go before you can spar on my level, Orah. I wonder just how much time we can spend sharpening your wit before the hands around my neck crush the last breaths from my body. That nebulous amount of time shouldn't matter to me - while I still have a pulse, I possess the ability to act as I please, in spite of my aggressors. Perhaps this is how it should be.
Alois read over the various measures offered by the song, absently smoothing out the edges of the lightly creased papers while he peered through the entirety of the piece. The song looked largely unfamiliar, but that mattered little to him. After looking it over, he started at the beginning once more, humming the notes to the melody as he paced through the measures at their denoted time signature. And with Orah retreated to the kitchen, he found some modicum of privacy to work through the pieces in a manner comfortable and effective. Once finished, he rearranged the papers in order and taped them to the window over a dark backing.
Faust grunted when the girl's muffled voice filtered through the bag. Finally he withdrew his head from its dark confines to look toward the source of the voice, fur mussed into a great and disheveled poof that readily distorted the outline of his face. Shaking with another grunt, he managed to right some of his fur before sitting back on his haunches. Favorite pen? Damn, girls get all weird around snappy cats like me... Must be somethin' about my fine a** coat...
Or wait.
The feline immediately delved into the bag once more, and to his welcome surprise, found a henshin pen tucked smartly into a fold behind the cake dish. A planetary symbol similar to an orchid sat engraved on the head of the pen. Faust trilled thoughtfully.
When Faust came up for air a second time, he padded toward the dusky-skinned girl and paused only when he drew as close to her ear as he could without jumping to her shoulder. "Faust," he grunted lowly, in an attempt to disguise his voice as a believable feline cough. He doubted Alois was in earshot, but the misanthrope's antics rendered him somewhat unpredictable when it came to unwanted creeping on serious conversations. Feline instinct took over when she offered her hand, and the offending odor of another cat drove him to overwrite such blatant claiming with his own scent. Satisfied, he promptly laid atop her bag in a great swath of black fur.
"I'f never heard it before," Alois returned shortly before attempting the first few measures at a slower pace. "Ze melody... It's far too cheery for my taste." And with the current background music playing, he found it far too conflicting to the point of cacophony. Finally he paused his own music in favor of playing the song at its proper speed.
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Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 4:35 pm
The young woman winced at the jab, her fingers curling before she relaxed again, her lips thinned. She needed to learn to brush off the things he said, but that in particular was a sore spot, as he surely knew. The one time she had actually walked out on him had been over it.
With no retort to give him, she let her fingers curl and scratch around Faust's jaw and up behind his ears as he rubbed his scent into her skin. She was curious what a guardian would be doing here, pretending to be a normal cat... Was Alois a senshi? That seemed... Unlikely. At least, that she wouldn't have met him as Ida yet. The boyfriend maybe? Did guardians live like normal cats with normal people?
Bending down, she dropped her voice to a breath of sound, knowing clever feline ears would catch it as she scratched his jaw again. "Quenton... Has a pen too?" She murmured, waiting a beat before she straightened.
"It's a love song, of course it's cheery." She called over the screen, leaving Faust to his lounging on her bag. Questions about the guardian would have to wait for now.
"If you don't like it, you can pick something else for me to sing. It just has to be something that's come out in the last decade." Orah said as she came around the screen to see Alois at his keyboard, the chords of the song rippling from the speakers. She hadn't thought the song was all that cheerful... The lyrics were all about waiting years for love, aching with pain for it... And promising to protect that love for years to come. It was bittersweet...
She watched his fingers literally stroke the keys as he played, sliding off the ends in a lazy manner, and she found herself captivated for a moment by it as she glided up behind him. A hum rolled from her throat as he played, matching melody and finding the proper key. The lyrics were written on the score, but she knew them well enough, needing only occasional glances for some of the verses.
"Time stands still.
Beauty in all she is.
I will be brave.
I will not let anything take away,
What's standing in front of me.
Every breath...
Every hour has come to this... One step closer..."
Her voice, when it came, lacked the roughness so popular recently in pop stars... But the notes were pure and flawless, and on key. Her years of practice showed, even if it was years of chorus work. He'd heard her sing before... That time in the shop when she had been practicing Herstlied, Mendelssohn. It felt like forever ago, now... So much had changed. The strange young man asking for grave flowers was no stranger any more, though just as odd as ever... And she felt like a completely different person.
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