ridiculous!” I throw my hands up in the air, one still holding the neck of the violin and the other the bow.
“I’m an insatiable asshole,” he admits with a shameless shrug. “Literally. I’m insatiable…about having stuff in my ass.”
I physically bang my head against the music stand.
“I’m going to pretend you don’t exist for a few minutes, okay?” I snap, bringing my violin up to my chin for the billionth fucking time.
But before I can continue the piece I’ve been practicing, Cassian begins to play. Only my eyes move to watch him, hypnotized.
His fingers slide across the strings as he lowers his head, eyes fluttering shut. For the first time, there’s no mocking mirth in his eyes. No wickedly sinful smile pulling up his lush lips. He looks…vulnerable. Sincere. The harsh planes of his face appear softer, if that’s even possible.
I recognize the song as “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen. It’s one of my favorites to play on the violin, one that I don’t even need sheet music to play.
As if my hand is being moved by some unseen force, I lower the bow to my instrument and begin to play the melody. I allow the music to rush through me as the familiar notes fill the air. Cassian immediately switches to the harmony, our notes joining together to create the most beautiful masterpiece I’ve ever heard.
I want to hate the music we make together, I honestly do, but I find myself lost in the mesmerizing combination. My violin’s high-pitched notes juxtaposed by his low ones.
And for a brief, brief moment, I feel as if our souls are merging. As if our music is screaming at us to stop this incessant fighting and be at peace. It’s stupid, I know, and entirely irrational, but I can’t help but feel that we’re perfect duet partners.
I’ll never find someone like this to play with again.
As if they have a life of their own, my eyes open and clash with Cassian’s dark, smoldering ones. I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels as if my soul is physically crawling out of my body and into his. I can’t tell you for certain where he ends and I begin. All I’m aware of is the music pulsing through my veins, stealing the air from my lungs and leaving me breathless. My heart pounds in my chest as my fingers move across the strings.
As the song tapers off, we both bow our heads, allowing the music to pulsate through our very bones. At least they do in mine. The moment is beautiful and perfect and slightly ethereal.
“You’re even better than you were before,” Cassian whispers, sounding awed.
“Thanks.” Heat enters both of my cheeks as I lower my head. “You sounded pretty good yourself.”
“I should be,” he states, his tone for once devoid of his usual teasing. “I’ve been playing for years.”
“I remember that.” Even at a young age, Cassian always found an excuse to play music. He lived and breathed it the same way I did. Honestly, if he wasn’t my enemy, we could’ve even been friends. There’s something about music that propels two individuals together, like a ponytail around your wrist being pulled tightly and then snapping back into place. “You still play in that one band?”
He chuckles softly, the low noise reverberating through me just as effectively as his music did. “The Rockets? Yeah, no. Ended that band my sophomore year. There’s a band I sometimes play with, but I’m not truly a member. Now, I just play for me.” He absently plucks at a few strings, his mind seemingly a thousand miles elsewhere.
“That’s the same for me,” I confess, the words tumbling from my mouth before I can think better of it. I shouldn’t be talking to Cassian like this. I’m supposed to hate him, destroy him. So why don’t I want to leave? “Music is… It’s an escape. A way to forget about everything wrong in life, you know?”
He nods seriously, those golden-brown eyes drilling a hole into my scalp with their intensity. “I do.” A wry smirk pulls up those thick lips of his. “I wanted to stop playing when my dad left, but you want to know what my mom told me?”
His dad left? I don’t remember the man well, but I do recall an older gentleman with similar chocolate skin and sparkling brown eyes.
My heart aches for Cassian, because absentee parents? That…that I can relate to.
“What did your mom say?” I query, even as the small niggle