Virtuoso || S. Geto

Prologue

Suguru sighed, his purple eyes left your figure and looked up at the ceiling. His chest filled with heaviness that he can't release, not yet.

"Suguru, this word is too lengthy"

The renowned Virtuoso looked over to the man beside her table who was preoccupied with his stack of files. Suguru tilted his head up to meet your gaze, his lips tugged into a gentle smile.

Setting aside his quill, he beckoned you over with a crook of his finger. Obediently you rose from your seat and glided to his side, your silk skirts swishing softly against the persian rugs. He took your delicate wrist in hand, guiding the nib of your quill across a fresh sheet of parchment.

"Ah, repatriation"

He paused

"Now, let us dissect this together. 'Re' means 'again'. 'Patria' refers to one's homeland. And the suffix 'tion' implies an action or process."

Slowly, carefully, he traced out each letter with fluid strokes. You observed with rapt attention, committing the unfamiliar form to memory.

"There. Do you see how it comes together now, little dove? The returning of ones to their native land. A journey's end and new beginnings."

He placed a chaste kiss upon your knuckles. "Now, I want you to practice writing it out yourself. Take your time and let that Virtuoso's hand etch each stroke with care."

Rising from his seat, he sauntered behind your slender form. Strong arms enveloped your waist, pulling you against his muscular frame as you continued practicing. Suguru wanted this to last forever. He badly wanted his dear Virtouso to be free and spread her wings, just like how she spread her arms every after performance.

"Go on, you're doing great. At the end of this session, you're not only going to be great at playing violin but you'll also be a splendid scholar"

Suguru, a man with a knack of intelligence managed to convince your boss, the man who owns the virtuoso to atleast let her learn how to read or write. Afterall, one has a right to education or is it because one wished for a little dove to escape its gilded cage? To spread its wings that were once plucked mercilessly.

I may or may have written this after listening to the sailor song by gigi perez.