Strings Attached

IV.The shape of sound

Eliza arrived ten minutes early.

She hadn't meant to. She'd planned to be exactly on time, as usual, not a moment too soon or too late. But her feet had carried her faster than expected, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of the townhouse again—gray bricks, black iron rail, the familiar brass number on the door. A little crooked. A little stubborn.

Music drifted through the windows.

She froze on the stoop.

It wasn't a scale or a warm-up or anything she recognized from the standard repertoire. It was slower than that. Rawer. A low, haunting sound that rose and fell like breath. The melody felt like it was searching for something—lonely, aching, beautiful.

Eliza stood there, heart thudding.

She didn't knock.

Not right away.

She just listened.

Eventually, the music tapered off into silence, and a beat later, Adrienne opened the door. She wasn't dressed like last time—no scarf, no dramatic coat—just a plain black tee and jeans, her red hair loosely tied back, a little disheveled. Her fingers still held the bow.

"You're early," Adrienne said.

Eliza looked down. "Sorry. I heard you playing and—I didn't want to interrupt."

Adrienne stepped aside, nodding her in. "You didn't. I was just... wandering."

Eliza followed her inside, the smell of coffee and old rosin greeting her like a memory she didn't realize she had.

"Did you write that?" she asked, setting her violin case down.

Adrienne raised an eyebrow as she set her own violin back in its stand. "That obvious?"

"It wasn't bad," Eliza said, a flicker of teasing in her voice.

Adrienne grinned. "High praise."

They moved to the usual spot near the windows. Eliza unpacked her instrument carefully, but she could feel Adrienne watching her—curious, but not invasive. Present.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come back," Adrienne said.

Eliza looked up, startled. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You didn't seem entirely convinced last time."

Eliza hesitated, bow in hand. "I was just... overwhelmed."

Adrienne tilted her head. "And now?"

"I don't know," Eliza said honestly. "But I wanted to try again."

Adrienne gave a small nod, then turned and walked to a nearby shelf, flipping through a stack of scores. "When your mother called me, she was very specific," she said after a moment. "Said she needed the perfect instructor for her perfect daughter."

Eliza went still.

Adrienne's tone wasn't mocking, but there was something carefully measured behind the words—an awareness.

"She said it like it was a job posting," Adrienne added lightly, pulling a worn sheet from the stack. "I almost said no."

Eliza swallowed. "Why didn't you?"

Adrienne met her gaze. "Because you sounded interesting."

She handed Eliza the page—older, frayed at the edges.

"What is this?"

"Bloch," Adrienne said. "Nigun. It means 'melody' in Hebrew. But it's not sweet. It doesn't resolve the way you think it will."

Eliza studied the page. Her throat felt dry.

"This one doesn't let you hide," Adrienne added quietly.

Eliza set the sheet on the stand and raised her violin.

The first few notes were shaky. She missed a rhythm. Her bow slipped. Adrienne didn't stop her.

She tried again. Deeper this time. Messier.

Halfway through the page, Eliza's sound cracked—just slightly—but she didn't stop playing.

Adrienne watched her carefully, her arms crossed, but her eyes were gentle. Alert.

When Eliza finally lowered her bow, her breath came out in a soft puff. Her hands were trembling, just a little.

"I didn't do it right," she muttered.

"No," Adrienne said. "You didn't. But it was real."

Eliza blinked.

"That's what matters," Adrienne added. "Technique can come later. But if you're not telling the truth with the sound, no one will listen anyway."

They stood in silence for a moment.

The sunlight caught a thread of Adrienne's hair as it slipped free from her tie. Eliza noticed the faint freckles along her cheekbones. The small gold hoop in one ear. The way she seemed completely at ease in this space, in her own skin.

It made Eliza ache. Not with envy exactly. With... something else.

"I've never had a teacher say that before," Eliza said.

Adrienne looked at her. "Then maybe you've only had teachers who wanted you to sound good, not feel something."

Eliza didn't respond. But she held that sentence close.

They played for another half hour—stopping, starting, laughing at a few wrong notes. Adrienne didn't push too hard. She just... listened.

When the lesson was over, Eliza packed up slowly. She didn't want to rush.

At the door, Adrienne held it open for her. "Same time next week?"

"Yeah," Eliza said. "That'd be good."

Adrienne gave her a brief smile. "You did well today. Don't let perfect get in the way of honest."

Eliza nodded, already turning to go, but something about the way the light hit the front steps made her stop. She turned back.

"That thing you were playing... earlier. Before I came in."

Adrienne blinked. "Yeah?"

"It was beautiful," Eliza said. "You should finish it."

A slow smile spread across Adrienne's face. Not a polite one—a real one.

"Maybe I will," she said.

Eliza walked home with a knot in her chest she couldn't quite name

~
𝙉𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙉𝙤𝙖𝙝! 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩!