A young doctor unexpectedly finds herself forced to indoctrinate into a paramilitary organization, where a stoic hero silently falls in love. Slowly, he earns her trust. The love between them burns away the darkness of the past and acts as a beacon...
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A piano.
The song was angry and sorrowful. I stood still as the music moved me to tears, wiping my eyes as I pressed through the courtyard. I stood uncertainly for a moment, but my concern quickly overruled my apprehension about disturbing him.
I knocked firmly on the door.
The music slowed, and I knocked again, this time softly.
The music stopped, and I think my heart did, too.
Solan swung the door open, looking angry. He blinked in confusion, and my words failed me as he took in my appearance.
Sleep shorts, unlaced boots, unzipped coat, braid coming undone. The book I had been trying to distract myself with hung stupidly in my hand.
The only question I had come prepared with was,'Are you okay?' The answer was obvious: He wasn't. The next question that came to mind was, 'What's wrong?' But I stopped myself from asking. The other day, he had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to discuss it.
"Company?" I asked softly, putting the ball entirely in his court.
Solan studied me critically. "I don't want to talk." He declared, not moving from the doorway.
"Then don't," I responded without thinking. "I won't either," I added, raising my book and indicating I would read, suddenly happy I had forgotten to leave it in my room in my rush to get here.
Solan hesitated, then removed himself from the doorway. "No words." He snapped, letting the door swing open.
I took that as an invitation inside and followed behind him, relieved. If he had asked me to leave... well... I don't know what I would have done. I don't think I would have walked away... I don't want to leave him... not like this.
Solan grabbed a strange-colored envelope that had been lying crumpled on the floor.
I shut the door behind us and stepped out of my boots, watching wordlessly as he angrily snatched a lock box from his bookshelf. He swore bitterly under his breath as he opened it, carelessly dropping the envelope inside. He shoved the box back, pelting the key into his desk drawer before slamming that shut, too.
He dropped back behind his piano without so much as a glance my way. His fingers moved effortlessly across the keys. The song was different than before but just as angry. It was beautiful, though. It was broken in a way that touched my brokenness.
I shrugged out of my coat and curled into his bed, unsure where else to go. I watched Solan get lost in his music; it was the rawest I have ever seen him. I dropped my eyes to my book, staring blankly at the page while focusing on the story wordlessly told by the notes dancing beneath Solan's fingertips.
We rotated beneath the night sky.
The song slowed, sounding less angry and more sorrowful. The change was so profound and moving that I couldn't help but look in his direction. The anger etched into every feature of his face was replaced with one of resignation.
