Music To My Heart

Chapter 5.

Chapter 5.

♫ JACK ♫

She’s a goner.

She’s so lost in the music that the world could end right now and she won’t notice. I’m not really complaining, though. Watching her with her shining blonde hair and serene face with a smile faint on her lips, I don’t want her to stop. It’s just too beautiful.

I want to hear her. I want to hear her like she hears herself. My mind reels back to just a few minutes before when she placed her hand gently on my guitar, her fingers spread out evenly. She gripped onto the instrument hard, using an octopus-like suction cup grasp. I recall how casual she did it, like her hand was supposed to be there. I thought it belonged there.

Easy enough.

But when I try to copy her actions, I fail completely. My hand drops onto the acoustic wood with a thud, and the sound echoes through the guitar and the air – loud and ugly. I know that she can’t hear it, but my initial relief washes away when she jumps a little and immediately stops playing.

When she meets my eyes with her hazel ones, her cheeks flame red; she appears embarrassed that she played in front of me for so long. Then, her eyes drop a little, her line of vision lingering over my lips for a while.

My heart speeds up just a bit, trying to rack up some excuse for why they would be there, besides the classic ‘she wants to kiss me’. As I realize that she has to read lips to communicate, I experience a small amount of disappointment. But, I push it away.

I don’t know what I’m doing right now, anyway. Finally, my leash around my thoughts solidifies. Oh, right. Music. Partnership. Record label.

I grab onto my phone again, beginning to text her.

Me: I’m sorry, Rockstar. I just wanted to hear your music in the same way you do.

Rockstar: I don’t think you’ll be able to. Your ears are still open, aren’t they?

If I didn’t know this girl any better, I would say that this comment comes off as rude and snappy. But since I kind of do, I understand the bluntness and honesty behind the words.

Me: I suppose you’re right!

She nods her head a little. The wind catches her right then, blowing blonde locks into her face. Her expression scrunches up a little as she tries to shake out her hair. I almost laugh, but catch myself just in time.

She concentrates on sending me another message, so I look down, waiting.

Rockstar: Is there a reason why you’ve been waiting for me since five? It’s kind of stalkerish, don’t you think?

Her joke makes me struggle to keep on a straight face, especially since I catch the slight grin embedded into her features. I’ve actually been waiting since half past four, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Me: Are you so conceited as to think that I’ve been waiting THAT long for you?

To top my reply off, I raise a challenging eyebrow when she looks up at me. Suddenly, she begins to blush a fiery color again, to which she turns away, mortified.

I laugh, my shoulders shaking up and down and everything. A sense of pride wells up inside me, knowing that I’ve made her look so...cute.

She starts typing again, but she stops, rapidly presses the same button over again (which is assume is the backspace key), and begins again. A while later I finally receive a text.