Violinist (CENTURIES series: Book #4)

28

• Music. •

Christmas morning was beautiful. The snow had thawed, but the city smelled fresh in a way you never expected New York to smell. Or maybe it was that my senses had finally cleared up and could take in the beauty.

Dan, Kyle and me had enjoyed a healthy breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes with maple syrup, hot chocolate with marshmallows and leftover candy from yesterday. Kyle and Dan had been constantly kissing and holding hands all morning. They were in love during Christmas and it was beautiful.

But it had hurt my heart seeing what they had and I missed.

What I knew I'd never have with the person my heart sung for.

His heart only heard one tune.

Dan and Kyle had eventually gotten dressed and left to go to Kyle's place for some privacy. After the big L-bomb yesterday, I didn't blame them. After assuring them both I would be fine alone for a few hours, I laid back on the couch and waited.

Waited.

Because in my heart, I could feel him. Even as I drifted asleep waiting for him, I knew he was coming. I could feel his aura even from miles away, coming towards me, aching. It hurt with every beat.

So when the knock finally came, I wasn't even the least surprised.

I opened my eyes slowly and looked up at the white ceiling. It felt like minutes passed. Silence. No more knocking. And yet, I still sensed him there.

Unlike the other times, I didn't rush to the door to open it. A thought in my mind actually briefly wondered what would happen if I didn't... if I didn't answer his...

I slowly arose and grabbed the suitcase in my hand. I had laid it out earlier while I was waiting for him, knowing the instrument inside it had been dormant for too long, laying lifeless with melodies to sing for him. Only him.

I walked to the door and felt my throat close up as I put my hand on the lock. It seemed like fate was speaking to me in the clearest form ever; Open or shut? Yes or no? Him or you?

I twisted the lock around, but I didn't open the door wide. This time I was the one with the downcast eyes as I opened the door an inch and showed him my presence. He knew when I was alone; I didn't care how, but he knew when we could speak freely without worlds colliding.

The second I let my eye crack out through the door, I saw his heavy, dark shadow. He stood as still as me, didn't look me in the eyes either. Perhaps we had finally both seen enough. Perhaps he was finally feeling everything I felt when I looked at him.

And yet.

"You're safe," He raspy voice said, lowly. With nothing more, he looked like he was about to leave again, his body shifting around.

My eyes flipped up in shock. "What?"

He stayed still for another second, his limbs protesting the statuesque form. "You don't have to worry about... them... anymore. You're safe."

What did that mean? There was never an explanation with him. "Tony..."

He shook his head. Don't ask.