AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Careful,” I say, “or that fork could end up in your thigh.”
He grins while eating another bite, studying me, then finally says, “What’s troubling you most?”
“Wolfgang,” I grit out, crossing my arms again. “This all looks effortless to him. The endless meetings, interviews, photo ops,” I add with exasperation. “I’m not good with people.”
I brace myself for another of Gemini’s flippant remarks but instead, he says, “I don’t know, love. Sounds to me like maybe the solution is as simple asactuallybecoming a team, instead of simply pretending to be one.”
My laugh is bitter. “Don’t be so foolish. There won’t ever be a time when Wolfgang and I will be friends, let alone partners.”
When Gemini leaves an hour later,I’m heading back to my rooms when I hear a noise floating up the stairs leading to the lower floors.
It’s more than just a noise …
It’s—
Violin?
Intrigued, I walk down the flight of stairs, my chiffon robe drifting behind me as I descend. I end up on the fourth floor and while I head down the drafty corridor, a prickle starts to tingle at the base of my neck. I realize I’m walking straight for Mount Pravitia’s bathhouse.
The violin notes become clearer with every step I take. The slow realization that it must be Wolfgang playing makes my heart speed up in itchy anticipation.
Still, I’m unwilling to believe that a Vainglory is capable of such raw beauty—such enrapturing melodies.
On soft feet, I approach the arched doorway and peer inside.
The room is lit with countless candles, the flames flickering alongside the shadows as if swaying to the melody. Wolfgang, wearing his customary silk pants low on his hips, has the violin tucked under his chin, eyes closed shut and eyebrows squeezed in concentration. A few strands of brown hair fall over his forehead as he plays with abandon, his torso swaying with the music, abs contracting with the movements as if the violin dictates what his body should do or go next.
He looks … so unlike himself.
Like a devotee kneeling at the steps of musical worship.
As if the music itself has cracked through his perfect image to reveal something much, much deeper. As if his mask is missing. And all that is left is … Wolfgang.
And he is breathtaking.
My stomach flutters. It makes me want to turn around and run. Pretend I’ve never witnessed him like this. Pretend that all that exists is the Vainglory persona.
But I can’t move.
I’m transfixed by Wolfgang and his violin.
Standing under the moonlit window, barefoot. He plays with abandon.
And still, I can’t move.
The melody stirs something deep inside of me. It makes me want to rub my chest and try to soothe the ache.
Wolfgang’s eyes suddenly fly open.
My heart slams against my lungs as he pins me to the spot somewhere between the shadows and the darkened doorway. IfI didn’t know any better, I’d think he was using his power of persuasion on me.
Wolfgang continues to play, hooded gray-blue eyes burning a hole through me as I dig my fingers into the cold stone of the archway next to me.
The music halts.
My breathing stops with it.
Slowly, his hand holding the bow falls to his side. Phantom notes still waltz between us, our eyes interlocked. The echoes of his music whisper to me a story I long to hear more of.
