• Resonance

    She felt like she was burning up.

    The lights were far too bright. She wanted to undo a button or two of her starch stiff cardigan; anything to escape the white hot heat of the spot light. Her palms were sweaty, her fingers were stiff and her nerves were shot. The piano seemed so foreboding, so sinister from the wax polish. The ivory keys gleamed in temptation but she didn't know if she had the courage to divulge in it's sin.

    But then she could feel his breath on her neck and his hands guiding hers to the keys. She could feel him. She shivered and closed her eyes. Everyone was waiting for her to strike a note but she felt frozen. A ghost of a smile graced her face.

    “It's flat.”

    The sudden intrusion of another human being in her world caused her to slam her hands on the piano's keys and spin around violently. Her eyes narrowed at the moron who startled her reverie.

    “Excuse me?” she snapped, not caring about niceties. All thoughts of being a good host and pleasant conversation flew from her head the moment she heard him speak.

    “Your playing, it's flat.” He answered with a tone one reserved for explaining things to small children. Her eyes flashed dangerously and the boy's lips curled up for a fraction of a second.

    “And you would know of course.” She retorted sarcastically turning her back to him, dismissing his presence in just one move. Her fingers danced across the keys as she prepared the score in her head.

    “There's no heart in it.”

    Her eyes widened and her fingers stopped short from hitting the keys. Anger welled up and she clenched her jaw before whirling on the boy once again. She opened her mouth to make a snappy comeback but he cut her off.

    “The notes are all right, every single chord. But where is the feeling?” He asked walking across her sacred threshold. He lowered his tall, lanky frame to the seat beside her and put his hands on her precious piano.

    “What are you...?” She gaped but he held up a finger.

    “Just listen.” He said with eyes closed. His long, artistic fingers mimicked her same movements she was doing moments ago but there was something different this time. Tears pricked her eyes, shocking her. She never felt this way when she played it. The song he was playing was a quiet, hauntingly beautiful and so tragically sad. She felt entranced as she watched his hands flow and listened to the most beautiful piece her young ears had ever heard.

    His fingers played the last note and he looked at her from the corner of his eyes with a smirk.

    “That's how you play it.”

    She brushed the tears from her face before ordering to leave her sight forever in a shaky voice.

    But he continued to come back.

    He would play her piano showing her what she was doing wrong. Everyday he never failed to bring her to tears and she never failed to ask him to stop coming to her house anymore. But he would come like clock work and she felt her soul getting tangled into his melodies. His fingers would guide hers and she could feel him pulling on her heart strings. She knew this was his plan all along and she was helpless to fight back.

    What she feared the most was him leaving and her feeling empty again.

    Her playing was restless and passionate, the way she felt every time his lips touched hers or when his hands would slid across her body. He had given her song a beautiful tune and she never wanted to let that go. She knew he was stringing her along, she knew he was going to break her and she knew he was doing it all for her. Because when he left her playing would be a perfect tone of angst and love and the crowd would live and breathe that. Was it really worth it to play so perfect that you were able to move an entire audience of people? Was it worth it to feel that empty again?

    So she said the words she feared most.

    “I love you.”

    He stopped playing and looked over at her with glassy eyes that he usually had when he was lost in the music. They cleared and she knew he heard her. She refused to become nervous and stared into his eyes. He turned back to the piano and started playing again. Her cheeks flushed in indignation.

    “I said I lo-”

    “I heard you.” He whispered softly. He rested his hands on the piano and looked back up at her. A smile toyed with the corner of his lips.

    “I love you too.”

    “Will you stay?”

    Her breathing was irregular but she tried to keep it as quiet as possible. His fingers caressed her hands and she could feel goosebumps. She wished they would turn that spot light off her. She felt like she was suffocating under it. Like she was drowning in it. But his breath on her neck kept her focused. Again she felt restless and she stretched her fingers towards the shining ivory keys. His presence was flooding her senses like a drug. She could feel his lips on her ear. He was there watching her every move making sure she played indirectly to him and him only. Because she loved him and he loved her; soul matching soul perfectly.

    “Breathe.”

    She breathed him in.

    “And play”