The words brushed past him like a scent he didn’t know. He saw the dull mist of her voice twitch in the air, trying and failing to mingle with his own compositions. It looked strange to him, distant. If he had reached out to touch it he would have gone right through the colors of it. Of course that was the case with every sound he saw, but somehow it was not the same.
He couldn’t truly make out her face, only guess at it. She was just a figure in a dream for him. Amduscias, if that was his name, tilted his head and felt his long tangled hair spill as spun silver over his shoulder.
A smile began to appear on his lips as he looked at her, warm and inviting. Then he turned and jumped onto the next car. On top of it he spun around in a flurry of thin white fabric, took two dancing steps and gesture for Jazz to follow him. His music wrapped itself around her in layers of violins and moaning brass.
“I’m Amduscias.” His voice was that of a young woman, sweet and light and floating in the glow of the street lamps. “I know you.”
“ Amduscias. ” She echoed, lost in the warmth and music that enveloped her slight body, drinking it in, her legs seemingly moving of their own accord as she trailed after him, he was otherworldly, addictive in a way.
His smile is addictive and Jazz can’t help but smile back, words spilling from her lips before she can think about it, “ You do? I don’t know you, I can’t, I’d remember someone as ethereal you. ”
She wants to reach out, to see if he’s real, or if her hand would go right through him. His presence is comforting, and his whispy pale form makes her feel as though she’s floating, maybe she is, she can’t tear her eyes away from him to check, “ Am I dead? ”
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