ALIKE A SIREN SONG IT CALLED TO HIM, begged him closer, luring his tread forward at an even, almost entranced measure until at last he slowed, brought before a young maiden alone. He said nothing, observing her performance in a respectful silence, for it would be terrible manners to interrupt, even when addressed by the musician herself, to which he offered merely a polite incline of his head. He wanted not to disturb a single bar in her song, acquainting himself with every flaw or otherwise; every slight stumble in timing, and every perfectly placed note alike.
OHH… WHAT A MOURNFUL SOUND…!
the demons screamed in his head.
He awaited first the death of her final note before bringing his palms together in applause, exclaiming ardently as he then threw apart his arms, ❝ BELLISSIMO! ❞
At last he approached, taking a few steps closer whilst resuming his praises, ❝ YOU’VE A TALENT FOR THE ART, MADAM! ❞ he assumed it had been some time, however there was beauty in imperfection, and as evidenced by her solitude, she played for none but herself, ❝ YOU COULD NOT HAVE PICKED A FINER STAGE, MADAM. TRULY A ROSE IN THE WILDERNESS! ❞ and he tossed aside the tails of his coat with a flourish, sweeping into a low bow.
When he straightened, with a tip of his head he regarded her again– but not with eyes, for there were no eyes, only a cold glow to meet and match that frost in her gaze, ❝ WON’T YOU PLAY ANOTHER? HOW I’VE LONGED TO HEAR MUSIC AGAIN– THIS PLACE HAS SO LITTLE. ❞
She was surprised he had stayed during her practices. Still, she marched on during her minor stumbles, though if she had any more of a heart she would’ve felt slightly bashful at her rustiness. It was a song her mother seemed to be particularly fond of- probably one of the reasons she could remember it, after so long. All the time she spent into refining the song... for naught, now.
❝ Your praise touches me. ❞ There was a nod of acknowledgement, though she was uncertain how much of it all she should take to heart. He seemed to be, from this brief exchange, quite a dramatic figure ( this label seemed to take away his credibility ). Not that he wasn’t strange in just his appearance, though she was determined not to fuss about it when she wasn’t in Library. However, her wariness, where she could trust no one, no being, still had to be confronted. ❝ If you seek a performance, I do not see why you would not attend one put on by a professional. I am simply... revisiting a childhood habit. Still... ❞
❝ I do not have a reason to send you away, if you truly wish to stay here. ❞ A small sigh escaped rosy lips ( not of resignation, perhaps something akin to relaxing herself ). Gloved hands drew up the bow once again, and with a rise of her chest she dove into another song.