Invisible Strings

Chapter 12: Borrowed

Isadora rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her.

"Fine," she said, shutting Hannah's phone and nudging it out of reach. "Let's at least get through your composition draft. That one, I know, I can help you pass easily."

Hannah groaned softly. "You just like grading me in real time."

"Maybe," Isadora teased, scooting closer until she could see the paper in Hannah's lap. "Show me what you've written so far."

Hannah shifted, cross-legged on the conservatory floor. The late afternoon light pooled across her notebook, the edges of her handwriting glowing in gold. Isadora moved down beside her, then behind her, her hands brushing Hannah's shoulders as she leaned in.

"Here," Isadora murmured, reaching over her to adjust a line. "This part's beautiful, but it needs a stronger transition. You want to lead them through the melody, not push them into it."

Her voice was soft and low, warm against Hannah's ear. Hannah's breath caught, then she exhaled slowly, letting her shoulders drop. The curve of Isadora's knees framed her sides, and when she leaned back slightly, it was instinctive. Natural.

"Like this?" Hannah asked, tapping her pencil against the page.

"Mm," Isadora hummed, considering. "Almost. You could repeat this chord... see?" Her hand slid gently over Hannah's, guiding her to sketch the notes. "There. It creates anticipation."

Hannah smiled, the sound of their breathing and the scratch of pencil filling the silence. For a while, neither spoke, just the occasional hum from Isadora when Hannah got something right.

"You always make it make sense," Hannah said softly.

"That's my job."

"No," Hannah said, tilting her head back just enough that her temple brushed Isadora's jaw. "I mean... you make everything make sense."

The words lingered between them. Isadora didn't reply right away. Only let her fingers rest lightly against Hannah's wrist, her thumb tracing a slow, thoughtful line.

"Careful," Isadora whispered finally. "You'll make me think you actually like me."

"Maybe I do," Hannah said, almost too quietly to hear. But her words were genuine and a little hesitant.

Isadora smiled then. She leaned forward again to speak softly against Hannah's ear. "Good thing I like you too, huh?" Hannah smiled and nodded a little. "Good. Come on, keep writing."

Hannah's pencil moved slower now, the melody taking shape on the page. Isadora leaned back, watching her with that soft, proud kind of focus she tried not to make too obvious.

"There," Hannah murmured, erasing a line and rewriting it with more confidence. "That sounds better, right?"

"Much better," Isadora said. "See? You didn't even need me."

"Liar," Hannah teased. "You fixed half of this."

"I guided you," Isadora corrected with a smirk. "There's a difference. I can't have you accusing me of academic favoritism."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Hannah said, her lips twitching into a grin.

They fell into a peaceful rhythm again, finishing the last few measures together. Hannah writing, Isadora humming quietly under her breath as she followed the imagined melody. When Hannah finally dropped her pencil, the notebook sliding onto the floor beside them, the silence that followed felt full in the best way.

For a while, neither of them moved. The light outside had turned dusky, washing the walls in blue.

"We should probably head back," Isadora said finally, her voice soft.