I don't own!
III
As he thinks of her, his heart swells. His notes come out brighter, louder, more cheerful thank he could ever hope for.
He thinks of her smile and he must remember to inhale.
He thinks of her determination. Her furrowed brow, bitten lip as she practices; it drives him forward. Her love her violin oozes of her, wraps up anyone who listens, making them forget about everything but her music.
Of her.
He purses his lips and places them to the mouth piece and begins his piece. She may not always be there to hear his song, but he always plays for her.