Fiddle
Shadow cracked open the weathered case with the same degree of care reserved for cradling an infant. The case flies open with a crisp snap and a deep, overpowering whiff of varnish and old velvet wafted forth.
He pulled his fiddle out carefully, puffing dust away from its smooth red body, rubbing the bow along the lump of rosin. At once, the rich hint of pine wafted forth as he before raising the fiddle to his chin. He smiled and winked at her attentive audience. Then he brings her bow to strings and starts out slow, and starts humming out to the tune of Dixie while Amy Rose sits and sways to the mournful tune, enraptured.
"Oh, I wish I were in the land of cotton, Old times there are not forgotten, Look away, look away, look away Dixie Land."
Shadow finds himself blushing. He knew only a few tunes by heart that his beloved Maria had taught and didn't suspect for a moment that Amy would come to appreciate the folk song she did by nodding in tune with the beat. The G.U.N agent smiled and found himself adding on little trills and ornaments he normally wouldn't, and smiles a bit wider as each one makes Amy's eyes grow wider and wider.
Finally, Shadow losses his patience. He's had enough slow and sentimental for the night, and he casts off into a lively reel, fit for a square dance. Amy starts tapping her foot against the linoleum.
Shadow, grinning licks his lips and changed his tune to a bouncy little jig, chuckling as Amy bobbed her head in time with her foot. Shadow joined in the wild breakdown, stomping his own foot for emphasis, laughing wildly as Amy gets up, shaking her rump in a playful, wonderful way that'd never fly on the dance floor. But they're just in a room, the two of them, and it's perfect. The hairs on Shadow's bow are snapping left and right as he strummed his fiddle.
Amy swung in closer with every sway of her hips, closer and closer, still dancing as wild and free as she ever has. Shadow looks into Amy's playful, bright green eyes and suddenly loses himself in mad inspiration. Suddenly he's not just playing by rote, but letting musical instinct guide his fingers. Suddenly, he's not just ornamenting, he's creating. It feels wonderful. Unfortunately, all too soon, Shadow wound it down with a sharp chop of the strings. The final cadence still hanging into the air.
Amy erupted into applause, grinning so wide it looked like it hurt.
Shadow slid the fiddle over with a gentle grin. "Give it a go for me?" he prompted, leaning in close then giving Amy a swift peck on the cheek.
Amy grinned sheepishly. "I can't play the fiddle," Amy admitted.
Shadow smiles anyway.
"Well, do you wanna learn?" he asks. Amy nodded rapidly, her pink quills flying every which way.
Shadow slid in behind her and lifts the fiddle under Amy's chin, curling her hand around the neck and tucking the bow into her right. "Alright, you hold it like this. Then, you take the bow and set it lightly on the strings, and then you draw the bow along straight. You with me so far?" Amy nods, a bright smile dancing on her lips.
Already, Shadow knew it's gonna be a great night.