"What a shame she's fucked in the head," they said.
A wave of guilt rose in her belly as he flinched, eyes dipping down to the necklace as she tore them away from the feathers that erupted over his skin, sticking firmly in his hair. "Sorry." The word came quickly, voice hushed among the quiet of the room, barely audible over the flames crackling in the hearth. She didn't miss the way he licked his lips, eyeing the food only like a man starved can, but she doesn't prompt him to eat. It's there if he wants it.
Music? She barely noticed it anymore, so used to the sound of it filtering through the rooms of the Halenani, mingling with laughter and conversation. Maeve stood again, once more a phantom as she drifted to the far side of the room, fingers curling at the edge of a room divider that she pushed back to reveal a piano. There were various other instruments set up behind her. Clearly this room was meant for entertaining.
The Madame slid onto the piano bench, fingers splayed across the keys as she took a breath, "Tell me if it's too much." Came the gentle request before her fingers began to drift across the keys, playing something from memory instead of following any sheet music as there was none for her to even read, the soft notes filing the space between them. The music, while beautiful, held a tragic sort of beauty A sadness that couldn't be expressed with words. Soft, yearning, and broken. Somehow managing to weave itself into a song that had her breath shuddering, eyes closing against a prick of tears, willing the ache in her chest away.
Music? She barely noticed it anymore, so used to the sound of it filtering through the rooms of the Halenani, mingling with laughter and conversation. Maeve stood again, once more a phantom as she drifted to the far side of the room, fingers curling at the edge of a room divider that she pushed back to reveal a piano. There were various other instruments set up behind her. Clearly this room was meant for entertaining.
The Madame slid onto the piano bench, fingers splayed across the keys as she took a breath, "Tell me if it's too much." Came the gentle request before her fingers began to drift across the keys, playing something from memory instead of following any sheet music as there was none for her to even read, the soft notes filing the space between them. The music, while beautiful, held a tragic sort of beauty A sadness that couldn't be expressed with words. Soft, yearning, and broken. Somehow managing to weave itself into a song that had her breath shuddering, eyes closing against a prick of tears, willing the ache in her chest away.
Maeve
