the time the song ended, he was standing on the stage at the foot of the piano. He looked to be about my age. Dark, wavy hair framed a pale complexion and his eyes were almost silver. I had to really look up to meet his gaze, as he was over 6 feet of muscle.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just passing by when I heard you. I’m Will, Will Bradley. I’m the new evening maintenance guy. And I think we’re neighbors.” He introduced himself, but stayed where he was at the end of the piano. So this was the new hire, Celia’s brother. We stared at each other, the grand piano between us, an energy swirling in the air around us. Oh my, he was extremely good looking. I should have been polite and introduce myself as well, but my breath caught and I couldn’t get a response out. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice my hesitation and continued.
“You are an amazing player. I can feel every emotion that you play.” His voice pierced through me and his eyes held mine.
“Thank you,” I finally stammered, trying to swallow the breath still caught in my throat. I looked down at my hands lying on the keys just to avoid looking into his eyes. I was used to compliments, but somehow it seemed more genuine coming from this divinely gorgeous man. At last, I remembered my own manners. “Sorry, I’m Julia. Julia Cavallo,” I said, taking a breath to calm myself. “I teach and direct the school plays here.” I threw that last bit in just to let him know that I had some authority to be in here.
“How long have you been playing?” he casually asked. For as deep as his voice was, it had a softness to it that I just couldn’t figure out.
“For about 18 years.” I tried to keep my tone nonchalant even though my heart was racing. Absentmindedly, I began to play again. “My parents started me when I was young because I kept begging them. I think my pounding on the piano was annoying them. At least then I would be pounding out something that sounded like a melody.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I looked back down at my hands.
“You play with such passion. My mother used to play and she once told me that passion cannot be taught. It comes from experiences within. Is there a reason?” His eyes flashed with something for a minute and then returned to a stormy grey. “I mean there is sadness. A longing there.”
I know he was just making conversation, and maybe he didn’t really know about my past, but I stiffened. I didn’t want to talk openly with someone I hardly knew.
“I’m sorry, I should go,” I stood up and gathered my things.
“Did I say something to upset you?” he was at my side instantly. “I didn’t mean to pry.” Once again, I was trapped by his eyes and left with my mouth hanging open wordlessly.
I turned away and regained my composure, better able to think straight when I was not looking at him.
“No… it’s just that… I think the rain let up and I really need to get home. It was really nice to meet you.”
I grabbed the rest of my things and hurried out of the auditorium and straight to my car. I didn’t realize I was shaking until I got home.
The sun flooded through the windows way too early. I blinked and rolled back over, letting golden rays stream through the window and warm my cold skin. Unlike our mythical counterparts, immortals could tolerate the sun. The disease created a lack of blood flow, which didn’t allow body temperature to regulate properly. Essentially, I was cursed with being cold-blooded, my body prone to absorb the temperature around me. Too much time in the sun would result in overheating; not enough sun could result in freezing skin or frostbite. As a rule, immortals tried to stay out of extremely cold climates and tended not to linger in the sun’s heat for too long, but I loved the feel of the early morning sun and how it made my skin feel.
The house was quiet. Celia must already be out and a quick glance outside
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just passing by when I heard you. I’m Will, Will Bradley. I’m the new evening maintenance guy. And I think we’re neighbors.” He introduced himself, but stayed where he was at the end of the piano. So this was the new hire, Celia’s brother. We stared at each other, the grand piano between us, an energy swirling in the air around us. Oh my, he was extremely good looking. I should have been polite and introduce myself as well, but my breath caught and I couldn’t get a response out. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice my hesitation and continued.
“You are an amazing player. I can feel every emotion that you play.” His voice pierced through me and his eyes held mine.
“Thank you,” I finally stammered, trying to swallow the breath still caught in my throat. I looked down at my hands lying on the keys just to avoid looking into his eyes. I was used to compliments, but somehow it seemed more genuine coming from this divinely gorgeous man. At last, I remembered my own manners. “Sorry, I’m Julia. Julia Cavallo,” I said, taking a breath to calm myself. “I teach and direct the school plays here.” I threw that last bit in just to let him know that I had some authority to be in here.
“How long have you been playing?” he casually asked. For as deep as his voice was, it had a softness to it that I just couldn’t figure out.
“For about 18 years.” I tried to keep my tone nonchalant even though my heart was racing. Absentmindedly, I began to play again. “My parents started me when I was young because I kept begging them. I think my pounding on the piano was annoying them. At least then I would be pounding out something that sounded like a melody.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I looked back down at my hands.
“You play with such passion. My mother used to play and she once told me that passion cannot be taught. It comes from experiences within. Is there a reason?” His eyes flashed with something for a minute and then returned to a stormy grey. “I mean there is sadness. A longing there.”
I know he was just making conversation, and maybe he didn’t really know about my past, but I stiffened. I didn’t want to talk openly with someone I hardly knew.
“I’m sorry, I should go,” I stood up and gathered my things.
“Did I say something to upset you?” he was at my side instantly. “I didn’t mean to pry.” Once again, I was trapped by his eyes and left with my mouth hanging open wordlessly.
I turned away and regained my composure, better able to think straight when I was not looking at him.
“No… it’s just that… I think the rain let up and I really need to get home. It was really nice to meet you.”
I grabbed the rest of my things and hurried out of the auditorium and straight to my car. I didn’t realize I was shaking until I got home.
The sun flooded through the windows way too early. I blinked and rolled back over, letting golden rays stream through the window and warm my cold skin. Unlike our mythical counterparts, immortals could tolerate the sun. The disease created a lack of blood flow, which didn’t allow body temperature to regulate properly. Essentially, I was cursed with being cold-blooded, my body prone to absorb the temperature around me. Too much time in the sun would result in overheating; not enough sun could result in freezing skin or frostbite. As a rule, immortals tried to stay out of extremely cold climates and tended not to linger in the sun’s heat for too long, but I loved the feel of the early morning sun and how it made my skin feel.
The house was quiet. Celia must already be out and a quick glance outside
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