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Jul. 15th, 2003 11:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsIn which Alison blunders into another emotional minefield.
Late in the night.
The notes dropped one at a time into the stillness of the room, breaking the silence almost lovingly. Fingers trailed tenderly over strings and wood, a peaceful smile accompanying the melody as it filled the room slowly, almost contemplatively. Soon, one composition followed another, segueing smoothly to the next, time discarded as irrelevant while the player lost herself to the music without reserve.
Paige was stilled in the doorway, silent and with quiet breaths. She hadn't planned on going this way; she didn't like passing the music room. There was something painful about it, something that made it hard to breathe. Tonight, however, the door had been left open, and the chord progressions had hit her full in the face while her guard was down. She recognized the tune, not by name but instead memory, and had soon found herself where she was now, head tilted slightly to one side and eyes closed.
Winding her way through another of Bach's fugues, cradling the guitar and caressing the strings as one might touch one's over, Alison failed to notice her audience. Intent only on the music, she worked her way through another composition, only dimly noticing that her fingertips were aching at working the strings - a realization offset by the fact that she'd been at this for several hours already. Finally, reluctantly, she played the final notes of the fugue and didn't start another.
Flexing her hands she started to notice the stiffness in her back and shoulders. Smiled that it wasn't half as bad as it might have been, considering how little classical guitar she'd been playing lately. And blinked, looking up as she realized there was another sound in the room.
Paige waited for the last overtones to fade from the room before she spoke, her voice a low whisper from deep in her chest. "Bach."
Still caught in the bliss of playing, Alison smile and nodded calmly. The hungry look hidden deep in the girl's eyes didn't escape her notice, but the pain surrounding it made certain that she didn't point it out either. Looking down affectionately at the guitar she played a few more notes, drawing out the music confidently. "He's one of my favourites."
She tilted her head towards one of the many chairs in the room, a silent invitation for Paige to walk inside and join her.
Tucking one leg under her, Paige settled into the offered seat, nodding quietly. "Always preferred Chopin myself." Her right hand played the piano opening to the piece Alison had been playing only moments before, soft taps on her thigh, but she didn't notice notice. "But I suppose Bach would generally sound better on the guitar."
"He wrote some good pieces for it," Alison agreed, hands hovering over the strings for a moment before she started to play another piece, in a low murmur of notes. "Chopin has some of the nicest piano compositions though," she added, smiling faintly and sliding a look towards the covered piano in the far corner of the room. "I should tune the piano," she shook her head in self-reproach, wishing she'd found the time to do so beforehand.
"You play the piano as well as the guitar?" Paige asked carefully.
Alison nodded, gazing ahead with a nostalgic look in her eyes. "Bella taught me. My grandmother," she added at Paige's curious look. "She was a good teacher. And she never showed that she was disappointed I took to the guitar more than the piano..." Alison smiled, pausing in her playing to run a hand across the instrument in her lap and wink at Paige. "I think she figured it out when she realized I was only naming my guitars and not the piano."
"She sounds like a lovely woman," Paige finally responded after an extensive pause. She had a distant look in her eyes, the dark blue of them turned soft as she realized how long she must have been staring at the covered heap that she knew had a piano under it. Her gaze flickered suddenly, turning to a bird outside as a distraction.
"She is," was all Alison said at first, pausing in her playing to look at Paige pensively. "She taught me how to love music, in all the right ways and for all the right reasons." She looked at the piano thoughtfully, then back at Paige again. "She made sure that it stayed that way, even when I moved on to other teachers. I was very lucky."
"Yes, very lucky." She smiled suddenly, something indescribable passing over her features, almost a bittersweet form of bliss. "Not many people are as lucky as you are Alison."
"I know." There was a world of meaning in those two words, experiences both good and bad piercing through to colour her voice as she spoke. "But her lesson took - and I try to hang on to them as best as I can. Nearly forgot not too long ago..." she drew in a slow breath, remembering how lost she'd felt at the loss of her career - equating one with the other, she now realized, until Sam had reminded her otherwise.
"You know the piano," she finally said, plainly.
Blowing a piece of her hair out of her eyes, Paige sighed. "I do."
Alison 'mmm' pensively, hands still over the guitar's strings. A new melody started, slow and soothing, speaking of sunlight and lazy wind winding though the leaves. "But you haven't touched one in a while." She managed to keep the bewilderment from her voice, keeping it low and calm. Just because she craved music didn't mean everyone else had to as well, after all. The look in Paige's eyes each time she looked at the piano said she did, however.
Closing her eyes tight, Paige swallowed hard. She had to clear her throat twice before she could speak again, and even then it came out rough as if rubbed with low sandpaper. "No, not in a very long while."
The melody continued for a while, notes wrapping lazily about the room; quiet and safe, somehow. A simple strand of sounds, a low counterpoint solidly anchoring the higher ones.
"How did you learn?" Alison asked quietly, keeping her own voice low, in harmony with the counterpoint without even realising it.
A slow smile spread over her features, warm and soft, but never managed to quite reach her eyes. They remained hard; steeling herself against words she spoke as little as possible. "My father taught me."
Her hands never faltered as she played, the result of years of practice. Alison's breath paused slightly at however, a silent 'oh' echoing in her thoughts alone. A single stream of notes echoed from the guitar, water in the shallows underneath a weeping willow. Letting Paige go on or not, offering music as a small measure of comfort.
"He taught me. And then he died." Paige took a breath, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "I played for a little while after that, I tried to, but... But Momma never liked it much. It broke her heart. So I stopped." Her words were halted and clipped, like lines recited, a story she has told herself countless times.
The music continued for a while, what had been said being thought over, what had been left unsaid given even more attention. "Things change," was the quiet reply, and resting her hand on the strings Alison stilled them softly, letting the music fade away for a moment. "And sometimes we have to make our own luck." After careful consideration, she started playing again, carefully picking out a piece Chopin had written for the piano on her guitar. "Nana always said music loved you back, without reserve. It'll drag you through every single emotion both good and bad," she quote, lips curling slightly over the words, "but it'll always be there for you if you let it."
"I don't play anymore, Alison. I can't. Music died for me when he did," she replied evenly, her voice void.
Wordlessly, Alison kept playing the Chopin piece, never faltering over the notes once. The clear yearning on Paige's face when she'd looked at the piano earlier said an entirely different story, she thought. But it wasn't for her to comment on it - while she could understand Paige's decision intellectual, the emotional response was entirely different, and not hers to impose on anyone. So instead she just played, falling back on what she did know.
Late in the night.
The notes dropped one at a time into the stillness of the room, breaking the silence almost lovingly. Fingers trailed tenderly over strings and wood, a peaceful smile accompanying the melody as it filled the room slowly, almost contemplatively. Soon, one composition followed another, segueing smoothly to the next, time discarded as irrelevant while the player lost herself to the music without reserve.
Paige was stilled in the doorway, silent and with quiet breaths. She hadn't planned on going this way; she didn't like passing the music room. There was something painful about it, something that made it hard to breathe. Tonight, however, the door had been left open, and the chord progressions had hit her full in the face while her guard was down. She recognized the tune, not by name but instead memory, and had soon found herself where she was now, head tilted slightly to one side and eyes closed.
Winding her way through another of Bach's fugues, cradling the guitar and caressing the strings as one might touch one's over, Alison failed to notice her audience. Intent only on the music, she worked her way through another composition, only dimly noticing that her fingertips were aching at working the strings - a realization offset by the fact that she'd been at this for several hours already. Finally, reluctantly, she played the final notes of the fugue and didn't start another.
Flexing her hands she started to notice the stiffness in her back and shoulders. Smiled that it wasn't half as bad as it might have been, considering how little classical guitar she'd been playing lately. And blinked, looking up as she realized there was another sound in the room.
Paige waited for the last overtones to fade from the room before she spoke, her voice a low whisper from deep in her chest. "Bach."
Still caught in the bliss of playing, Alison smile and nodded calmly. The hungry look hidden deep in the girl's eyes didn't escape her notice, but the pain surrounding it made certain that she didn't point it out either. Looking down affectionately at the guitar she played a few more notes, drawing out the music confidently. "He's one of my favourites."
She tilted her head towards one of the many chairs in the room, a silent invitation for Paige to walk inside and join her.
Tucking one leg under her, Paige settled into the offered seat, nodding quietly. "Always preferred Chopin myself." Her right hand played the piano opening to the piece Alison had been playing only moments before, soft taps on her thigh, but she didn't notice notice. "But I suppose Bach would generally sound better on the guitar."
"He wrote some good pieces for it," Alison agreed, hands hovering over the strings for a moment before she started to play another piece, in a low murmur of notes. "Chopin has some of the nicest piano compositions though," she added, smiling faintly and sliding a look towards the covered piano in the far corner of the room. "I should tune the piano," she shook her head in self-reproach, wishing she'd found the time to do so beforehand.
"You play the piano as well as the guitar?" Paige asked carefully.
Alison nodded, gazing ahead with a nostalgic look in her eyes. "Bella taught me. My grandmother," she added at Paige's curious look. "She was a good teacher. And she never showed that she was disappointed I took to the guitar more than the piano..." Alison smiled, pausing in her playing to run a hand across the instrument in her lap and wink at Paige. "I think she figured it out when she realized I was only naming my guitars and not the piano."
"She sounds like a lovely woman," Paige finally responded after an extensive pause. She had a distant look in her eyes, the dark blue of them turned soft as she realized how long she must have been staring at the covered heap that she knew had a piano under it. Her gaze flickered suddenly, turning to a bird outside as a distraction.
"She is," was all Alison said at first, pausing in her playing to look at Paige pensively. "She taught me how to love music, in all the right ways and for all the right reasons." She looked at the piano thoughtfully, then back at Paige again. "She made sure that it stayed that way, even when I moved on to other teachers. I was very lucky."
"Yes, very lucky." She smiled suddenly, something indescribable passing over her features, almost a bittersweet form of bliss. "Not many people are as lucky as you are Alison."
"I know." There was a world of meaning in those two words, experiences both good and bad piercing through to colour her voice as she spoke. "But her lesson took - and I try to hang on to them as best as I can. Nearly forgot not too long ago..." she drew in a slow breath, remembering how lost she'd felt at the loss of her career - equating one with the other, she now realized, until Sam had reminded her otherwise.
"You know the piano," she finally said, plainly.
Blowing a piece of her hair out of her eyes, Paige sighed. "I do."
Alison 'mmm' pensively, hands still over the guitar's strings. A new melody started, slow and soothing, speaking of sunlight and lazy wind winding though the leaves. "But you haven't touched one in a while." She managed to keep the bewilderment from her voice, keeping it low and calm. Just because she craved music didn't mean everyone else had to as well, after all. The look in Paige's eyes each time she looked at the piano said she did, however.
Closing her eyes tight, Paige swallowed hard. She had to clear her throat twice before she could speak again, and even then it came out rough as if rubbed with low sandpaper. "No, not in a very long while."
The melody continued for a while, notes wrapping lazily about the room; quiet and safe, somehow. A simple strand of sounds, a low counterpoint solidly anchoring the higher ones.
"How did you learn?" Alison asked quietly, keeping her own voice low, in harmony with the counterpoint without even realising it.
A slow smile spread over her features, warm and soft, but never managed to quite reach her eyes. They remained hard; steeling herself against words she spoke as little as possible. "My father taught me."
Her hands never faltered as she played, the result of years of practice. Alison's breath paused slightly at however, a silent 'oh' echoing in her thoughts alone. A single stream of notes echoed from the guitar, water in the shallows underneath a weeping willow. Letting Paige go on or not, offering music as a small measure of comfort.
"He taught me. And then he died." Paige took a breath, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "I played for a little while after that, I tried to, but... But Momma never liked it much. It broke her heart. So I stopped." Her words were halted and clipped, like lines recited, a story she has told herself countless times.
The music continued for a while, what had been said being thought over, what had been left unsaid given even more attention. "Things change," was the quiet reply, and resting her hand on the strings Alison stilled them softly, letting the music fade away for a moment. "And sometimes we have to make our own luck." After careful consideration, she started playing again, carefully picking out a piece Chopin had written for the piano on her guitar. "Nana always said music loved you back, without reserve. It'll drag you through every single emotion both good and bad," she quote, lips curling slightly over the words, "but it'll always be there for you if you let it."
"I don't play anymore, Alison. I can't. Music died for me when he did," she replied evenly, her voice void.
Wordlessly, Alison kept playing the Chopin piece, never faltering over the notes once. The clear yearning on Paige's face when she'd looked at the piano earlier said an entirely different story, she thought. But it wasn't for her to comment on it - while she could understand Paige's decision intellectual, the emotional response was entirely different, and not hers to impose on anyone. So instead she just played, falling back on what she did know.
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Emotional Minesweeper!
Date: 2003-07-15 09:34 pm (UTC)Re: Emotional Minesweeper!
Date: 2003-07-16 12:08 am (UTC)I got X-tra Difficult X-Mansion, dammit.
;)