Healing Myself

Shades of Miss Winston

I sobbed. I cried. I sniffed because my nose was runny. I wiped my tears and smiled.

Lily sure had a way with words. My insecurities wouldn't just go away but I felt better and a pep talk from her was all I needed to talk to Dr. Phil later about joining the Academy.

It had been sometime since I'd been here now and I'd been telling her about all that I'd done with the girls last night. I had also told her about going to the treehouse this morning and taking a look at all of the stuff there. She said it was a step toward the right direction. The direction of healing myself of what had happened.

Now we were going to the living room because she wanted to greet the Academy member who had also been here for a while now. She had said, "Unlike Liam, I believe in greeting the people who enter our home."

I knew she was pointing to the fact that he hadn't come to see me yet. Liam wasn't usually like this though, and I knew that. He was just excited with working on all the stuff for the baby.

As we stepped inside the living room, two people looked up in our direction from their positions on the couch. One was Liam. His strawberry blond hair was neat as always, his eyes light and the light freckles on his cheeks gathering together as he gave me a smile.

The other person was dressed in complete business attire. A gray suit paired with a maroon tie that gave his outfit a very desperately needed dash of colour. His eyes, too, were gray; and hidden behind a pair of sleek black frames. Light brown hair brushed back away from his face and the pale skin of his face was smattered with the slightest of stubble on his jaw.

Perfection wasn't real, not in living beings, but if I ever wanted to believe that it was, he would be the one to make me believe.

He also reminded me of something, or rather, someone, but I attempted to push those thoughts away as Liam got up and lightly hugged me. "Hey Sang." Lily shot him a discreet glare and he gave her a guilty smile.

"Hey," I muttered back and smiled at him before my eyes strayed back to the stranger. I could feel them getting ready for an argument. 3, 2, 1-

"Is he-" the devil on my left shoulder was cut off by the angel on my right one.

"No." She said.

"Gray, Gray, Gray. So much grey." The devil singsonged. I could feel my cheeks heating up as I listened to her and focused on the man's beautiful gray eyes.

"Don't." The lilliput sized angel narrowed her eyes at her evil counterpart.

Lily moves closer to the couch and Liam's side and gives a polite nod and a smile to the other man. "Owen" she says lightly, her voice as soothing as ever. The man gives her a light nod back in greeting.

"She's thinking about it. I'm not doing anything wrong. You know you are, Sang, it's a waste to deny it." I knew. God, I knew.

The stranger had also stood up from the couch by now and began to extend his right hand toward me. "Owen Blackbourne." he says. His voice is smooth and authoritative, like he could tell me to do anything and I would comply without a second thought.

The devil perks up at hearing his name. "Fifty shades of-"

"Sang Winston."

I tell him my name before she can complete that outrageous sentence, extending my own hand towards his.

My words sound slightly rushed. I was trying to beat the devil though. His hand gives mine the lightest of squeeze and it feels so nice. I look at his hand carefully, something about his touch eerily familiar, and smile when I notice his nails, cut right at the skin line.

A string player.

As I take my fingers slowly away from his palm, I wonder what he plays. Guitar? No. Ukulele? Definitely no. Cello? Maybe.

I look back up at his face and this time I notice a very slight purplish mark on the left side of his neck. A normal person might think this is a hickey, or completely miss this because of the light tint, but an instrument player always knows.

It's a violinist's hickey. A proud mark all of us violinists bear because of handling the precious babies in between our necks and shoulders.

"You play the violin." I say enthusiastically, happy to find another fellow violinist. There aren't a lot of people who play the violin. In fact, it is one of the hardest instruments to learn.

He looks surprised, before asking, "And how did you come to that particular conclusion?"

He shouldn't be surprised, after all, he's Academy. Then I realise, he might be Academy but that doesn't mean he knows that I want to be, and already am part Academy.

I feel one corner of my lips turn up as I reply to his question with the obvious answer. "Your nails are cut right at the skin line," I look at his hands and then move my gaze towards his neck, "and the mark on your neck is slight, but to anyone purposefully looking for it, it's rather obvious."

Liam gives me a look, one of his eyebrows raised and Lily is no better as she gives me a I-am-very-surprised-but-in-a-good-way look. I expect Owen to be a little offended, maybe, for pointing it out in such a way but am, for the lack of a better word, shocked when I receive perhaps the smallest of smiles possible.

"That is a very keen observation. Do you play the violin too, Miss Winston?"

His words, his tone, everything about him is so neat and polite and professional that I'm almost afraid if I look into his eyes I'll find them harsh and cold. And it's astonishing when I look up at him, peer into his eyes, and find nothing but warmth and curiosity.

I'm so busy wondering about the emotions in his eyes that I completely forget to answer his question. And almost miss the way he says not Sang, but 'Miss Winston'. Almost.

Lily comes to my rescue as she compliments my playing, "Sang plays magnificently." Liam backs her up as he smiles proudly at me and says, "She's good."

Owen looks at me and there is hesitance in his eyes. He's about to ask me something when my phone lights up in my skirt pocket and I hear the telltale chiming of a message. I give a sorry smile and murmur, "a second" and receive small nods from everyone and a "go ahead" from Liam.

I read the message and it's from the hospital, informing me that my appointment with Dr. Phil has been moved to a different time slot, one that is soon from now.

I frown as I notice how delayed this piece of information arrived. Had Dr. Phil not informed me when he did, I would have wasted a lot of time just waiting around at the hospital. They must be understaffed, I conclude.

I turn back to them and give the signature I-have-to-leave smile that I'm beginning to become a pro at. "I'm sorry but I have to leave right now or I won't be able to make it to my appointment on my time."

Lily gets it but the two other males in the room don't. Regardless, they all tell me it's okay and better three hours too soon than a minute too late.

Lily isn't a big people quoter and Liam is not into any books, so I think we can all do the math and realise who was it that said the latter part of that.

I tell everyone goodbye and leave Lily's home on light feet, a lighter heart and my mind whirling around thoughts of a polite man who quotes Shakespeare.

•••••

QOTD: Has anyone ever linked Mr. Blackbourne with Christian Grey? No? Just me then, I guess.