Printed from WriteWords - http://www.writewords.org.uk/archive/12698.asp

Muse

by  Cailleachna

Posted: Saturday, January 28, 2006
Word Count: 499
Summary: Flash fiction - not for any challenge, just my first piece.




The room was smoky, but she could see him quite clearly. She was close to the stage, just to the left of the speaker, and the music was almost distorted. The notes he was playing filtered through to her, high and clear over the bass guitar and the drums. Her chin rested in her hand, propped up on the edge of the table. She was riveted, her eyes fixed on his fingers as he reached for the strings.

Could he tell she was watching him so intently? The stage lights would be in his eyes, but surely he would be able to feel her gaze burning into him? He flicked a smile in the direction of the blonde, lithe groupies standing behind her - he could certainly see them.

As the song drew to a close, she applauded with everyone else then fell silent as he launched into a solo. She could feel every note, the low ones vibrating in her chest, the higher ones singing in her head. He was looking down at the guitar, concentrating fixedly on what he was playing.

Suddenly he glanced upwards, and for the barest of seconds their eyes seemed to lock. She turned away quickly, feeling her heart thump at the base of her throat.

Oh God, he saw me...It took a moment before she was able to reassure herself that he saw no such thing, the lights were probably shining directly into his eyes, not to mention the difficulty he would have seeing through the smoke. She let her gaze drift back to the stage, a little more surreptitious in her appraisal now.

She was too old for him; he was barely out of high school. He was slender and slightly awkward, as if he wasn't accustomed to his height yet. His gaze had dropped to the strings again, and his dark, curly fringe hung forwards, obscuring his features. That didn't matter too much; it was once again his hands that her eyes were drawn to. They were slim, with long fingers, but less delicate than they seemed. Even from this distance she could see the pressure he exerted on the strings - his fingertips must be fairly calloused, otherwise he'd cut them to shreds.

The solo was peaking; they'd be breaking for interval soon. She slipped off her chair and went to the bar to get another drink.

Never fall in love with a musician... She laughed quietly to herself as the line from a movie she'd seen once suddenly popped into her head. The idea was absurd; fall in love? She didn't even know his name, but somehow the concept seemed quite possible. Idolise, maybe; it couldn't be called love in the lexicon she was used to, but she'd seen it happen.

He was standing by the bar. Only one way to find out, really. She reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What are you having?"

He smiled at her, nodding slightly, and the music never stopped.