Hye-jae: Book 2 - New Loves

Happy Days Part 30

Such an exciting show was an easy crowd-pleaser and its dramatic finale brought loud claps and cheers, almost as a communal release of excitement, though there was no-one to accept the audience's praises.  Families with small children began to gather up their picnics and start to trail tired - and in more than 1 case, over-stimulated and fractious children - towards home.  A family close to Hye-won packed away enough toys and games to amuse 10 children, while their little girl of about 4 - worn out from all the intense excitement - lifted her arms to have her Daddy lift both her and her special friend, a battered looking rabbit with floppy ears, where she immediately slept on her father's shoulder, her thumb in her mouth and her friend crushed to her chest.  Hye-won thought it was the cutest thing she had ever seen and her eyes followed the little family, as they made their wandering way.  Seon-jae - whose attention was never far from his love - followed her eye-line and watched her lingering interest, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.  He leaned his head down to murmur quietly: 'love, everything ok?' and she lifted her eyes to meet his and smiled gently but didn't respond.    

When the initial flurry of departures died down, no-one seemed in any hurry to leave, the cool of evening, a welcome relief after the closeness of the day.  Ciara and the 2 men were deep in conversation and Hye-won turned more into Seon-jae's arms and he lifted his knees behind her to support her back.  There's that thoughtful streak again - this boy.  She reached to stroke a finger along his eye-brow.  She often does this when she has something she wants to say.

'My love?'

'Hmm?' She could call me her love and touch my eye-brow all night and I'd be the luckiest man in the world. 

'The Schumann?'

'Hmm?'

Her stroking stilled and she let her gaze reach into the depths of his soft eyes.

'Did you really learn it because Richter recorded it?'

Now it was his turn to look thoughtful and then a tiny grin lifted the corner of his mouth.

'If I answered yes, would you believe me?'

Her expression remained neutral, as she waited for him to elaborate.

'Of course, those recordings are...,' he searched and failed to find a useful description: 'every time I listen to them, I hear something new.  Like the other day, I was listening to the first piece again and it struck me how fresh it sounds - he could have set the pace a bit slower to make it more - what's the word...melodramatic? - but he keeps it moving along and yet it's...sublime, just...heart-breaking.'

His enthusiasm was infective and she added, enthusiastically: 'I love how the left hand in the very fast second piece Stücke II is so insistent and powerful, almost like a force of nature.'

'Yes, I find that really amazing too.'

His voice trailed off, as the reflected light of the street lamps - rising at intervals around the grassy areas - turned her eyes to pools of liquid.  He swallowed, as a pang of emotion struck him in the gut: 'even so, that isn't why I learned them, my love.'

He mimicked her now, tracing her elegant arched brow.  How can anyone be so pretty everywhere?  These are just...perfect.  He trailed the tips of his nails up into her hair, short light strokes, stimulating and relaxing, at the same time.

'You can probably imagine how your letter from...,' he paused, tripping over the word prison, 'affected me.  Knowing where you were when you wrote it, imagining what you must be feeling, how much you must have been missing...music in there.'

He stopped and inhaled deeply before going on.

'It broke my heart, if I'm honest.  I cried so much when I read it.'