Oblivion
an excerpt

He couldn't sleep. That was all there was to it. His tortured heart had bothered him throughout the day and now wouldn't relent to give him a little peace. Perfect, just perfect.

He grabbed his guitar and headed downstairs, hoping to calm any dog that wasn't yet asleep. Instead, Jamie found Rose awake and settled in to the crook of the sofa, tapping eagerly away at her laptop's keyboard.

Unsure of what to do but knowing she must have noticed him, he felt stuck.

She glanced up, acknowledged his presence silently, then returned her gaze back to the glowing screen.

To back away now would admit defeat, something he couldn't do. He wouldn't turn away just because she was occupying a space he wanted - this was still his house. He still ruled over it.

He spotted Lilly on the floor, still energetic from being cooped up here. Thankful for the excuse, he sat at the opposite end of the sofa and took his guitar out. Whistled for his pup to come rest by his feet. Then he played. Not the way he played for Emma with lullibyes, but songs he had once played to Rose. Soft and sweet, the notes heavy with tenderness and love. Songs that weren't really songs at all, but just flyaway notes that he managed to capture and weave in to something that made sense only to the curious heart.

Rose still stared at the computer, but he knew it was affecting her. He could almost see her ears straining to listen to every note, trying to force her to pull all attention towards the music. Her eyes darted, very quickly, to his fingers every once in a while. She had always marveled at what his fingers could do when a finely tuned instrument was in them. It was what made him a great wood carver. Or what had allowed him to do all those fancy tricks as a bartender. Even what helped him grab the eggs from a mother chicken's nest, before she pecked him to bleeding. His fingers were his livihood, but sometimes they could be simple in providing the most basic, yet complex of all entertainment. Something that sang to the soul and touched the heart. That captured the wild imagination and the attention of the mind. Even something that could make stress melt away and muscles relax, bones ease in ache and wounds to calm. Music affected everything in the body, if played the right way. Especially if you happened to be weak to it, like Rose Goldmoon- Sunney just happened to be.

Her fingers slowed on the keyboard. Her shoulders started to droop, as did her eyelids. Her chin fell, slowly, towards her chest, until she looked like she was either allowing the music to run through her veins or suddenly praying intensely.

Jamie loved watching her. Carressing her without a single touch. Knowing that he was holding everything that made her. Taking it from her, robbing her and replacing the notes. Allowing this to be, if only for a little while. The worst part of playing was that it eventually had to end. And then, all he held would evaporate, his hands that held it would become empty. She'd steal it back, all of it, leaving him vacant and silent.

But for now, which was what he wanted to focus on more than anything, she was his. All his and no one else's, even if she did belong to another man now. He held her, owned her, loved her. And Jamie Brock did not share.

Rose's eyes were soft for the first time in too long. They weren't angry or glaring, flashing with anger or showing her hot temper. No, they were dreamy. Calm. Happy, even. He loved it.

Focusing so on her, he strummed a wrong note, his finger slipping. She started to startle out of her reverie, but he quickly caught the music and made them flow to his will. She wasn't as carefree and lost as she had been before, but quite nearly.

How ironic, how when he awoke this morning, he had wanted nothing more than to ignore the infectious feeling of such a diasterous holiday. Now he was well caught it in, seeing that only Rose had been able to escape it. Almost.

All he wanted to do, here, perched on the last minutes of Valentine's Day, was to let her know. Tell her he loved her. But even with the music washing through him, his stubborness and pride rose up in to his throat, disabling any hope of speech. Not tonight, the thought whispered through him. Not yet. Not tonight. She's not ready. Neither are you.

He suddenly felt tired, his emotions changing like the tide of an ocean. He was caught in the tide, but now was released and floating in a different direction. Towards the shores of harsh reality. It looked rocky and unwelcoming, but inevitable.

His hand drooped. His fingers loosened on the frets. The music stopped.

Rose became aware of herself again, taking back what she had lost. Jamie clicked for Lilly to follow him, then walked back up the stairs, feeling bereft of all he had so quickly and unrightly gained and then had disappeared from his holding.

He'd find sleep. Eventually.

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