A/N: Well hello again, iponeddyou here, now belovedbeauty. I know it's been ages since I posted something new. And this is merely a small bit of drabble. Life has been a bit hectic, and well, I'm still catching my breath. I apologize for disappearing, and I hope you all aren't too disappointed in me. And that this little bit of writing can help with my absence. Much love dear ones! -Cher
He was beautiful. From the top of his reddish brown hair, down to his bare feet. Dressed in worn jeans, and crisp pale blue button down dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled to his elbows. Revealing pale white skin, right forearm inked with music notes spanning from his wrist up into the hidden expanse of his arm.
She wondered where the notes ended. And if they created a beautiful song.
His eyes often remained shut, especially as he played. But there were moments she could see his eyes. Moments when she got lost in the smoldering forest green irises.
Only when the sun hit his face just right could she see the true depth of the color.
But mostly she watched his hands. The way they'd gently strum the strings of his tattered guitar. Or easily breathe on each key of his keyboard. He never opened his mouth. She never heard words.
But the melodies he played spoke volumes. She had learned how to tell his mood by the music he played. And sometimes, if he was happy enough, he'd cover songs.
Today he drifted across the chords of his guitar. Playing a song she knew well. A song she sang often.
And she started to sing. Vocalizing what he wouldn't. It took courage, to move from her spot of silence and into the spotlight right beside him. But being beside him was what she yearned for the most, and it gave her a satisfying high.
His eyes opened at the sound of her voice, looking at her for only a brief moment. Staring at the spot she had taken beside him. His green eyes sparkling with flecks of gold and brown.
And she wondered if he only saw a plain girl. With brown hair and brown eyes. Pale and unmemorable. Still, he continued to play, eyes closing once more.
Together they drew a crowd. The song continuing. Rising and falling, just like their chests as they took each breath. Not stopping to novel in the bodies slowly surrounding them.
And then the song came to a close, her voice finalizing the end.
Claps echoed around them, but neither of them were lost in the sound. They had locked gazes, both curious of one another. And the patrons drifted away, leaving behind spare change tossed into his empty guitar case.
Neither spoke, just staring at one another as the sun began it's descent in the sky. The ocean crashing on shore breaking the silence.
He smiled then, as a sea gull cried in the distance. And her breath caught in her throat, enamored by the pure beauty of his smiling face in the rays of the setting sun.
"You're good." He said. His voice made of velvet and deep tones. She laughed, nervously and humbly. "You're better."
He laughed as well, his more steady and buoyant. She watched him set his guitar beside him and turn his body so he was closer to her.
"Come here often?" He wondered, clasping his hands and letting them rest in his lap. She chuckled, tugging her sweater closer as the sea breeze chilled. "A little too often." He smiled again, crookedly and handsome. His face seemingly chiseled from stone. Too magnificent to be real. "Why do you say that?"
She shrugged, looking out at the roaring ocean. He followed suit, watching her in his peripherals.
They sat in silence, both content that way. The sun was completely gone from the sky when he finally spoke again. "Would you like to get a cup or two of coffee with me?" She snapped her head towards him, eyes widening just slightly with shock. He took that as a bad sign, immediately opening his mouth to back track. But her answer stopped him: "I'd love to."
And they both smiled at one another. Pausing life for a moment to drown in the feelings rushing through their veins.
Overwhelming. Wonderful. Dizzying.
He collected the cash from his case, tucking it away safely in his wallet. Then she watched as he gently placed his guitar back into it's protective box, pulling on a clean pair of socks and a beat up pair of black converse. And they both stood, looking at one another for an answer to their next move.
He managed to find it before she did. Holding out his free hand and finally introducing himself. "Edward Masen." She bit her lip to hide her smile and gently placed her hand in his. Reveling in the warmth, in the thrum of energy thriving between them. "Bella Swan."
"Pleasure to meet you." He said, waving his hands in the direction of the shops. And she wondered if she imagined him whispering, "Bella."