| I'm goddamn slow, sorry. I keep working 10-hours shifts, so I come home, sleep, go to work, sleep.. and so on. shortest post evah He seemed to be just as comfortable in personality as he looked. She smiled at him, and concluded that she could easily become friends with this one. She changed her seat so she faced him - before she had been looking over her shoulder - swinging her legs around so her knees pointed in his direction. A tiny blush played on her cheeks for a second or two at his praise. She didn't really think so herself, but she hit the tones all-right. Even the really high ones sometimes. Whenever she did it seemed as if suddenly everything was easy; singing, playing, even living. Nothing mattered, it was just her and the music. It sounds differently, my voice, in this form. Perhaps because the neck is different.. I don't know.. But thank you. Placing the guitar on the floor, balancing against the piano, she bent down to pick up another sheet of music. It was a song, and its accompaniment was written for guitar, and not piano; perfect! You wanted to sing? She asked with a playful face, turning the page to him so he too could see what was written on it. Small writing in one corner revealed the genre of the song; it's a pop song. I can sing it to you, or try it out, and then we can sing together? She didn't ask for him to reply, but simply picked up her guitar straight away and tried out the first chords. They were easy enough, but a few were tricky. Still, there wasn't so much sound, so he could still talk to her. She was just doing stuff with her hands, really, and she wasn't mentally absent or closed to conversation. |
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