Capturing Them

Chapter Forty Three

A/N; oh my goodness, you guys! 70K Reads, ALMOST 10K Votes & 2K comments! Just, thank you, all of you for reading, voting and commenting. You're all my motivation, remember that! Enjoy.
P.s. The song Sang sings is If I Could Fly by One Direction. I love this song!

Chapter 43
Sang

"Come with me," Mr Blackbourne whispers, holding his hand out for me to take. My lips part, unsure of where he wants to take me. I nod my head and place my hand in his, the warmth of his immediately a welcome. He straightens his knees, pulling me up with him. I take my phone from him and slip it into my bag, releasing his hand and immediately missing his touch.

He turns and heads for the doors to enter the school. I hesitate for a second before following on his heels. We walk through the halls, the sounds of our footsteps completely in sync and echoing through the empty halls.

We reach a door, and I watch as Mr Blackbourne removes a bundle of keys from his pocket, finding the one he wants before unlocking the door and pushing it open. He waves a hand at me, gesturing for me to go first. "After you."

I step into the room and the first thing I see is the piano sitting in the middle of the room. Desks are stacks in the corner and chairs are in random places throughout the room, but all are turned towards the piano. My whole body tenses when my eyes come back to the piano.

The door closes and I still don't relax. My bag is removed from my shoulder and Mr Blackbourne asks, "May I go in your bag?"

My brows dip down into a frown, but I nod my head and turn to focus my eyes on him. His lips lift just a millimetre before his hand dives into my bag. a second later coming back out with my camera in his hands. He puts my bag down on a nearby chair, and comes to stand in front of me.

"You express what your feeling in your photos, I believe. The way you take them, the way you later go on to edit them to match what you saw, what the story in the picture tells anyone with a good eye," he explains and I'm surprised by how well he understands why I take pictures the way I do. "I'm going to play the violin for you, and I would like you to take my photo."

"What's the catch?" I ask quietly, knowing there's something he wants from me.

"In return, Miss Sorenson, I would like for you to either play the piano or the violin, while I take pictures of you." My eyes widen and stray to the piano. I notice on the seat for the first time that there's a hard case on top of it. "My photo will tell my story, your photo will tell your story. It's the first step in the right direction, Miss Sorenson."

I look back at him, meeting those steel grey eyes of his. "What direction is that, Mr Blackbourne?"

He's silent for a long moment, his eyes moving over my face, as if committing me to memory. "Whatever direction you want to take."

His words have a hidden meaning, I'm sure of it. I just don't know what that meaning is at the moment. But I hope that one day I will. The question is though, can i sit at that piano or hold a violin and play? I haven't played in so long. I know it's not just something you forget—just like taking a photo, breathing, and walking or maybe even running. You can't just forget how to do it all.

You remember the movements, the strokes to make, or the keys to press to bring music alive. You can never fully forget something you once loved doing.

I nod my head and take the camera from him, pulling my arm from the sling at the same time, ignoring the twinge of pain as I do. His lips tilt up once more and I watch as he unbuttons his jacket and removes it, laying it neatly next to my bag before going over to the piano. My thumb blindly presses the button to turn the camera on. I'm too transfixed on him, watching as he rolls the sleeves up on his crisp white shirt before flicking open the latches on the violin case.