hxneybunx
A story in which Luka Couffaine falls in love with a proper English lady who yearns for freedom in music.
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Crystal-clear ocean eyes stared up at the bright stage lights. The music was loud, blaring. His hands moved instinctively over his black and white guitar, each note second nature. The crowd roared, their energy pulsing like electricity through his veins. His heart pounded in time with the beat, the rhythm moving him.
The music swelled fast, intense, the drummer hammering down for the beat drop.
Then silence.
His eyes lifted. The stage lights illuminated her like something out of a dream-pearlescent skin, silky hair. A girl stood by the mic, hand raised.
And then, she sang.
A siren-like voice drifted into the quiet, carrying the melodic bridge of a simple love song. Soft at first. Then louder, higher as the note climbed. He watched her face, mesmerized. Beautiful. Poised. Then raw, emotional, as the beat dropped again.
For a moment, he forgot to strum.
The music faded behind her. All he could hear was her.