Ray had a feeling and he couldn't just deny it. When his hand touched hers and squeezed it softly, the man closed his eyes. All those goosebumps and the fastest heartbeat from love stories' pages proved their existence. You knew this philosophy that love easily could get into obsession. Like the starts couldn't shine without moonlight.
"A million times I've asked you
And then I ask you over Again, you only answer Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps".
Cynthia put her palm on his shoulder. She noticed that the teacher's fingers gently clinged her waist. The girl wrapped her arms around his neck and started to move in melody's rhythm. His body was so warm and Ray's heartbeat was like a saxophone sound. Slow, smooth. She could imagine herself like autumn leaves. They dried up without the rain.
"So if you really love me, say yes But if you don't dear, confess And please don't tell me Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps".
"I haven't asked you. Why did you start to play the piano?" He held her closer and hugged tighter. The man was curious about it.
"I have had my jazz obsession since my dad came home with Chet Baker's vinyl", Cynthia still has been keeping this record. The album "Baker's holiday" was stunning for her. "And I want to make my own music". She said and ran her hand over Ray's back.
"Do you have any ideas?" The teacher's voice sounded quiet and calm. Every move he made was light as a feather. Cynthia smiled at it.
"Try to guess". The girl grinned and closed her eyes. Ray understood her without words. The melody in the background told him.
"I believe you'll be like Billie Holiday", He said and laughed. But the man meant it completely seriously.
"This is the best compliment which someone has ever told me". And it was true too. She could count it romantic but they had a big age difference like the wall between two people.
"How shall I destroy this wall?"
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Street lights reminded of one big sun above their heads. Flaming autumn leaves were swaying and shaking because of the strong wind. Ray decided to take her home. The teacher was frightened that Cynthia could get lost in New York's darkness. A beautiful city and beautiful violence in it . Nobody knew when the knife would dig in your back. Love had the same technics.
The girl stepped in puddles and hid her hands in the coat's pockets. Two people were alone there despite the cars which were driving near them. She took his hand automatically and Ray wasn't against. Cynthia didn't care about this "knife in her back". Back wasn't a heart. People couldn't live without heart. What would make her believe him and open these thousand locks of her fragile heart? While she was thinking about it, they got closer to her house.
"I want to thank you again for this night, Cynthia", He said and smiled softly. The teacher took away her hand slowly and made the girl's cheeks blush.
"Thank you for sharing it with me". The student looked into his eyes and met Ray's sight. She wanted to turn her head away when someone else's lips covered hers. Cynthia was confused but quickly got used to it. Her hands touched the man's shoulders and squeezed them carefully. This kiss was written by jazz melodies. Smooth, calm and real.
