Moonlight Symphony

5th Note | The Heart's Void

As the bright pink fingers of dawn touched the rooftops of the houses, the chill of the evening slowly warmed up a couple degrees. Stalls opened up to present their goods, the owners as hasty as ever to earn more than just several coins. Men -each carrying their daily bag of food- head off to their jobs leaving their family for the better sake of living. Unlike them, -who were just starting out on their job- Thomas had just finished his. 

With his guitar strapped against his back and Watsonia striding beside him, this was his ideal morning. His eyes drooped down in exhaustion,  his dark brown hair tousled by the early morning breeze. 

"I wonder if Arthur has already eaten his breakfast." He heard her mutter in a mellow worried tone. He let his eyes linger at her face for a moment, relishing her downcast blue eyes and her lips that formed a pale pink line against her translucent face.  He smiled at her, patting her shoulder. 

"Arthur can handle himself, Crim." She blinked at the nickname and softly smiled in return. Standing on tiptoe, she placed her hand on top of Thomas's head - her face so close to his making him blink in surprise- and replied:  "I know but that does not stop me from worrying, Poe."

Thomas laughed at her gesture -showing the boy that resides within him. Watsonia joined in remembering their childhood memories. "Poe" and "Crim", the nicknames that they have branded to one another during their stay in the orphanage. It still brought smiles into their faces whenever they remember their youthful days of play and survival together with Arthur. 

His laugh diminished to soft chuckle. Staring at his bestfriend's face, he sighed deeply to himself. Watsonia gazed back- her deep sea blue eyes grazing over Thomas's face. She noted how his shoulders had broaden throughout the years and how there was a small stubble on his chin. She can't almost see the boy who used to play with her back then. How they had grown without them noticing it themselves. Thomas, on the other hand, drank in the flowery scent of her hair and losing himself within the voids of Watsonia's azure eyes. As she dropped her hand from his head, he let his fingers sweep over Watsonia's willowy blood red hair - the curling gloom of the alley hiding the desire that fueled within him. 

With uncertainty and longing blazing from within his chest, he drew her closer - his lips so close to hers that it drew her breath away. 

"Arthur." She whimpered in an unsure hushed tone.

Just like that, the spell was broken. He pushed himself away from her, hiding his ashen face in the obscurity of the alleyway. Watsonia stood dazed and awkward, not sure on how she must react.

"Yes, I-I really think we must go." Thomas said stiffly, wondering how he had managed to keep all of it hidden for more than 10 years. "Arthur--" He nodded.

"Yes, Arthur." Watsonia replied still in shock. 

They walked in silence. The gloomy aura getting into their nerves.

"Wait." Thomas paused. Watsonia did likewise. "I gotta tell you something."  

He leaned against cold and slick wall of the alley sighing heavily in deep thought. Taking his best friend's hand into his, he fixed his stare on her long crimson hair. "Will you stop dancing?" He pleaded in a tired deep voice that resonated within the alleyway. "I'd rather have you sleeping the night away than dancing all throughout for money." 

Watsonia shook her hand away from his. "Why do you say that?"

Thomas winced inside, biting his lip. "Wouldn't it be better for you to rest? You have done a lot for me in the past, let me do something of value for you in return."

"No!" Watsonia simply said glaring at Thomas in astonishment. "How can you say that? You are my dearest friend, I can not just let you toil for the three of us." Thomas frowned and tilted his head down creating shadows on his face. She settled her chilly hand on his cheek, making him look into her eyes for a moment. 

"You do not have to dance." He replied briefly, his eyes delving deeper into hers. "You are just putting danger into your hands whenever you dance. Have you seen how those men look at you? How they glaze their greedy, malicious eyes over you? How can you not see that? The more nights you dance, the more I am worried whenever you take to the alleyways." He clutched her hand on his cheek - warming it. "I simply ask you to mind your protection." 

"And I simply ask for your consideration." Watsonia stubbornly replied. "When all our debts are paid, only then shall I stop. Until then, we have to make certain sacrifices for our own good." She watched as Thomas slowly closed his eyes. "Someday, we'll be well-known musicians, we don't have to play in the streets anymore. You'll be the greatest pianist, I will be a famous singer and Arthur, the best violinist. I just know it." Caressing his cheek with her thumb, she comforted him from his worries and troubles.  Deliberately, Thomas's tensed shoulders eased down. 

Thomas grinned and opened his eyes to meet Watsonia's. The light of the morning sun adding a tint of gold to his chocolate brown eyes. "Your and Arthur's happiness is all I desire. Nothing more, nothing less. I have forgotten the dreams that I used to cherish back in the orphanage." He observed the glow of day slowly skimming over Watsonia's face and noticed sadness in her expression. 

"You used to dream to be a prominent writer like Edgar Allan Poe." Watsonia muttered taking her hand gently from Thomas's grasp.  She took a step away from him. "You used to write stories and then you will make me read them and ask if I am scared out of my wits or not."

He chuckled standing uprightly. "Oh, did I?" 

Watsonia started to walk. Thomas pushed himself off from the wall. "Yes, do you  not remember? You would hide those pieces of paper underneath my pillows in the notebook in which I wrote my songs. You'd draw your devious character and show them to me and Arthur always in broad daylight because you do not want us to sleep less at night. Even back then, you were already caring for us so much." 

"It sounds so long ago." He sighed following her hair's red radiance as she turned to one alley. 

"Yes it--" Watsonia stopped. 

Thomas caught up to her, placing his arm around her shoulder - a gesture that is so evident during their younger years. "What is it, Crim?" He followed her gaze - his eyes widening in shock.  The stench wafted into their  noses wrapping them in an abyss of confusion and shock. 

A woman wearing a long sequined black gown lay on the alley's chilly floor. A large slash was on her chest, creating a hollow black hole on her torso. Her arms were crossed over her chest just right below her hollowed breast. With eyes staring blankly into the heavens, she almost looked like a living woman except for the chasm on her breast. She had no heart. Instead, a pale pink flower was carefully perched in that hole of flesh - a spark of color in the otherwise monochromatic girl. The girl's midnight black hair was spread above her head like feathery roots. There was not a drop of blood spilled from her partly torn body creating the illusion of an unconsious lady. 

Fear gathered within Thomas and Watsonia. They stared at the cold bloated body, processing what they were supposed to do. The dead girl's jewels twinkled as the fingers of dawn reached her body. Her mouth was open in a silent scream for help, her eyes wide open in both confusion and astonishment. The joy that was within them a while ago was lost almost in an immediate haze of emotions. Watsonia's hands shook. Thomas's fists clenched. It was not the first time they had seen a dead body but it still sent shivers down their spine. 

"It's.." Watsonia turned back and began hyperventilating. Thomas made her turn away from the cadaver, resting her head against his chest. He himself can not turn away from the grotesque scene, the horror of it drawing him nearer and nearer - his curiousness and uneasyiness overcoming the confusion that he held a while ago. 

"That flower, Thomas.."  Watsonia whimpered against him. Tears streaming from her eyes.

"I know." He whispered in disbelief.  "A Watsonia flower."