A sunbeam, breaking through the leaves of the old linden tree, danced in her hair, turning it to molten gold. He sat across from her, pretending to read, but the pages had long since lost their meaning. His entire being was focused on her: on the way she wrinkled her nose when she laughed at something in her book, on how the tip of her tongue thoughtfully touched her upper lip.
He stood up and walked to the piano in the corner of the room. Without a word, his fingers touched the keys. A quiet, tender melody began to flow, one he had composed the night before, thinking of her. It was music of summer rain, of the scent of her perfume, and of the warmth that filled his chest each time their gazes met.
He finished playing and, in the silence that followed, simply looked at her. Her smile, quiet and full of tenderness, was the answer he had so feared and yet so desperately longed to hear.
ns216.73.216.121da2
and then Add to home screen.