Seeing

The tips of her fingers followed the concrete boundaries of the hallway, guiding her path to the wooden door, the cool metal handle that, when depressed, swung into the solitary dressing-room they had been given at this venue. She opened the door silently, without knocking in advance—there had been no sounds emanating from within the room and besides, there was nothing for her to see if she were wrong.

As she stepped into the room, however, she heard a slight rustle further inside, to the right.

"Who's there?"

Klavier Gavin's musical voice, caught up temporarily with a note of surprise, caused her to murmur an apology and to walk toward the direction she had heard him speak. The dressing tables. She felt the warmth of the vanity lamps on her face as she approached, illuminating her features for the man to identify.

"Ah, Lamiroir! You startled me." The sound of the musician's cheerful laughter came from slightly lower than her shoulder and she turned her face towards it, measuring the emotions in his pleasant voice.

"Tonight was some performance. A perfect finale to our tour together, wouldn't you say?"

She bowed her head, nodding. "Yes, it was. You did wonderfully, and sang with such spirit."

"Only because your presence allowed me to do so," Klavier responded lightly, chuckling again. His lilting voice caused her to smile sadly, and shake her head to deny his words.

"May I sit?"

There was a slight clatter as he stood and turned the chair toward her. His hand, warmer than one would attribute to the calm and collected musician, took hers and helped her to the seat. She felt him continue to stand close by her and spurred on by a feeling, she ventured:

"These past few months... have been ones of great change for you, haven't they?"

Without a beat, he replied: "Yes. I learned so much from you. It really was a pleasure--"

His voice only faltered when she reached out and caught his arm, shaking her head slightly. The movement of her other hand, beckoning him to lean closer down to her, he followed wordlessly. She heard the slight thump as he knelt down beside her, could feel his breath, light against her veil, as he brought his face close to hers.

She reached out and caught the strands of hair by his face, soft and smooth. Moving further, her fingers brushed against his face gently, catching the dampness against his skin she knew would be there. She didn't question why.

"I didn't think you'd see." His voice was strained, though traces of merriment still clung to it.

"I don't look with my eyes, Klavier," she reminded him gently.

"Show's over and everyone's left. After tonight, you will too."

She hushed him like a child, running a finger lightly against his lips.

"Not yet."

Gently, she took hold of his shoulders and pulled him down until his head rested in her lap. With the hem of her cloak, she lightly caressed his face, to dry it. And then, softly stroking his hair, her fingers running through the rich strands, she sang the boy a lullaby.