Love, Poetry, & Coffee

~ 34 ~

Another groan escapes my throat, I can't believe I'll be doing this with an audience. Well, to be fair, she's the only one who wants to listen to me sing. It's also fair, since she did perform for me, might as well give back the favor. But the difference is that, there was a small audience that had gathered around her when she was performing a spoken poetry, on the other hand, there's no sign of a single soul roaming around the hallways to listen to me sing.

"Come on, Declan." She sounds so excited, like a child having their first trip to Disneyland. Her head glances around the empty hallway to make sure there's really no one in sight. "You might need to hurry until someone shows up in the hallway," Her middle name might be "mischief" since she keeps giving a mischievous grin.

A hide my hands in my pocket as I let out a breath that I didn't realize I've been holding on to. "You did say that I'll be the one choosing a song to sing, right?" The only answer she gave me is a nod, and now my brain begins to scroll around the playlist. Well, the playlist ain't that big since I only memorize some songs in my phone, so it'll be easy to pick some.

I begin to sing Tongue Tied by Faber Drive, since the song appears to be appropriate for my situation right now. Staring intently at the end of the hallway where the elevator seems to be resting, my mind casually tries to play an acoustic guitar to match the beat of the song. Part of me is hoping that Constance know this song, since it's one of my favorite. Even if she knows the song, I still can't believe I'm singing this to her.

Her mind seems to have registered the song lyrics and immediately whispers, "Tongue Tied by Faber Drive." Well, at least she knows the song, but the admiration in her tone seems to have made me smile. It also sends a motivation to me to continue singing to her. I really wish I had my guitar for this one to make it even more sweet, but that thing has been devoured by the paper land, and it'll take me months to even find it.

When I finally at the chorus part, I've gain courage to glance back at Constance. But I immediately close my eyes after seeing her deeply admiring me, and I can feel the embarrassment rising in my cheeks. I bow down my head to face the floor while my eyes are closed shut. This would have looked less ridiculous if I've stared up the ceiling instead of the floor, but sadly, I've already done it, so I'll just have to finish the chorus in this position.

Why must I feel scared to stare at her? Is it because of her deep gorgeous brown eyes that seems to make me trap in her trance? I don't know if that's the real reason why I'm scared to look at her, but whatever it is, I sure have a feeling that I need to get over that irrational fear. I've read a lot of legacy-based novels to know that fear is the true enemy of success. It's funny that in those legacy-based novels, despite that they've been written by a lot of different authors, the plot will always have family problems, trust issues, keeping the reputation safe, but in the end it's just fear that's making the conflict. I can't believe my mind wanders to random stuff even though I'm busy singing the lyrics out loud.

Once I've finished the chorus, I wasn't planning on singing the entire song, so I'll just stop right now. I carefully gaze up and open my eyes towards the only audience I hoped to have-thank God there's no other breathing creature that have shown in the corner of my eyes. The look on her face has a combination of adoration and praising.

After a moment of silence between us, she finally lets out a breath that she seems to have holding on to while listening to me singing. "You have a wonderful voice," Without that genuine smile she flashed me as she said that, I would have not believed that compliment. Although she sounds genuine saying that, I still don't believe it.

A chuckle escapes my throat. A nervous chuckle, since I don't know how to respond to compliments without feeling sweaty and awkward. It is just like being a teenager again. What was the scratch the back of my neck counter at, right now? I don't remember, but whatever it is, it's now a plus one because a hand of mine made its way to the nape of my neck. "That's an exaggeration," after leaving, I should ask Google about how to respond to compliments because I have a feeling that whatever I'm doing is not ideal.