Grit To Grace

Eight

The days wore on for Will. He was doing his best to keep his chin up and a smile on his lips, but when he was alone at night he let himself break. His eyes didn't shine much anymore when he laughed. Everything felt hollow. 

He had at least fallen into something of a routine, rising with the dawn and brewing coffee. He always stepped out with his coffee to watch the sunrise, then he'd head for the trails and go for a jog. He was never gone more than a couple of hours. He didn't usually speak in the early morning hours; it never felt right to speak when even the birds were still quiet.

Then he'd come back in, ready to start his day and set to finding things to do. Sometimes he'd help clean, sometimes he dove into his sketches. He spent a lot of time just hanging out with Fallyn. Lately he'd been picking at his guitar too.

For Fallyn, it proved useful in deciphering exactly what he was feeling in the moment. When he was particularly down, even happy songs seemed heavy with grief. When he was in a good mood, the notes were plucky and light. He really hadn't thought anything of it, but he had no reason to hide how he felt when he played. He allowed his emotions to flow through his fingers.

It had only been a week since the Oasis, but to Will it seemed like he'd been here a dozen years. A fire was burning in the backyard, the flames dancing as he strummed the guitar.

He had never sat down and played for Fallyn. She usually listened from another room, and didn't usually interrupt. However, tonight she'd agreed to light a fire and relax outside under the stars with him. He'd offered to play a little, and she had smiled, and now he was out here strumming while she finished making dinner.

He furrowed his brows, losing himself in his thoughts as his fingers mindlessly moved. The music that drifted through the air was a tune of his own. He paused as a particularly interesting combination caught his attention. He slowly plucked each note again, in the same order, and smiled a bit. That sounded really good. He'd have to write that down later.

The tune resumed, though now he was paying more attention to it. Before long, he was mouthing words to himself. He had written songs before, but none were quite like this one. This one was already written, and ready to be played in his mind. It was written in code, but if he concentrated on it he could decipher it in no time. It just had to come to him.

For Fallyn, the man living with her was still some kind of enigma. She couldn't read him well yet. That made him dangerous. Will had never shown her any ill intentions. In fact, it was the opposite. He cared. Sometimes it was with coffee when she woke up, or other times it was just lounging around the house.

Will was a wealth of knowledge when it came to the old west and rebuilding the town. He didn't know yet, but she hoped that he would like it when all was said and done. Fallyn could tell how lonely he felt. How miserable he was some days. As close as she got with him in the last few weeks, it made her sad to see him in such a state.

Currently, she was making hot chocolate to bring out to him. She had lit the fire and brought over some chairs from the patio. Will sat in one, strumming away. He was talented, Fallyn had to give him that. Each note was played with emotion; she could always tell how he felt through the music.

She smiled as she stepped out, two mugs of hot chocolate in one hand and a blanket in the other. Fallyn was always cold.

"That's pretty," she remarked, nodding towards the guitar. "The notes, they sound like springtime... If that makes sense." She laughed a little, setting down his mug. "Do you know a lot of songs, or do you make them up?"

"Ah, that's a complex question to answer. I know a lot of bits of songs. Whether it's a concept, lyrics, or a few key notes. We didn't exactly have radios or movies with music back home, so most people who played were playing from memory. If they got confident, they'd give the song their own spin. In terms of songs I can play, there's a few I know, and a few I wrote."