Music and Stone.


Henry let the last notes of the song fade away, soft and gentle on the still air of the room, bis eyes closed. He drew in a slow, steady breath, and exhaled, breaking the hold the music had had on his audience of one. A slight smile grew on his lips as he opened his eyes and looked at Yvonne, who was now standing beside the piano, her hands slowly retracting from the outstretched position they had been in while she played. The musician let his fiddle slide downwards to rest on his lap, his bright blue eyes locking onto her silver ones.

“Well now. It seems you have some experience with music yourself, don't you Miss Yvonne? Though I'd dare say that your history with it isn't on the performance side, no.” His gaze broke to scan her up and down, intently bearing down on her. The accompaniment hadn't been quite right, though if she wasn't a musician herself she probably wasn't aware of it. His eyes slid down to her legs, studying them as they emerged from beneath her skirt, then roved back up to meet her own gaze once more.

“No, no. I'd say you either sing, or dance, to music, don't you? I could see you being good at either of those, and you have an ear for music that shows you are used to listening to it, but not playing it. You did better than most of the little ones here, so you have been exposed to music and have an appreciation for it. But - differing instruments aren't meant to be fully playing the same notes, they have different roles in songs.” He stood up suddenly, his legs unfolding smoothly and swiftly. A step, two, and he was standing close to her, but not too close, as he peered down at her, his fiddle resting against the outside of his thigh.

“Yes, you have a voice that is quite pleasant to listen to, and your legs muscled well - you could be either. I wonder which it is, then. Hmm.” He grinned at her, leaning in for a moment - before pulling back and away, smoothly sliding back on fleet feet to give her space beside the piano once more.

“Well now, Miss Yvonne! I have given you a slow tune. Now, let me give you one that I quite like, something with a bit more energy. Let the music take you, hmm?” He grinned broadly as he swept around the room, moving the chairs and stools scattered about to the outside edge, clearing a wide space in the center of the room. He turned to her, still bearing that wide, energetic grin,as he practically leapt back to her. The man rested the fiddle and stick atop the piano, and stood behind her. “Here. I'll show you this.” His hands came forward and caught hers, bringing them back to the piano keys.

The keystrokes he showed her weren’t complicated - a repetitive set of notes, back and forth along the ivories. His fingers danced across the piano and her fingers as he showed her which to press. Then, abruptly he moved back, snatching up his fiddle once more. He couldn't help his excitement - none of the others had ever shown an interest in the music, not enough of one to want to accompany him. Now that he had someone who was at least willing to play along once, a strange kind of frenzy was settling over the man.

A wide, vivid smile stretched Henry’s cheeks as he brought his fiddle up. His right foot began tapping the tempo that he had shown her on the piano - and then he was off, bright notes filling the room with their energy, his excitement spreading through the music.


[linkage: https://youtu.be/1BQTxFShmxA. He is also unwittingly using The Sound of Music, his passive ability to spread the mood of his music to listeners. Yvonne can shrug it off of she wants to.]