9
If I die young,
Bury me in satin,
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Her soft voice pulled Beau out of a lazy dream and his hand found cold sheets when he reached over for her. Two clumsy strums and he finally woke himself enough to realize that the music was coming from the living room. He winced slightly at a sour chord but it was quickly remedied when she adjusted her hands around the neck of the guitar. She made such a pretty picture, with her hair falling over her bare shoulders, a plain white sundress flaring around her knees as she sat in the center of their sunbathed room with his acoustic resting on her thigh. There was an undeniable cuteness about her, from the way her brow furrowed and her lips pursed in concentration to the way her little toes curled into the rug in frustration. Even a cynic like him couldn't help but chuckle.
Chiles slammed her hands on the string to stop the latest sour note. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you? I was just... well... Here, sorry." She ducked her head to untangle herself from his guitar strap, but was stopped before she could shove the instrument back.
"I wanna hear you play." He sat across from her, his back against the foot of the couch. She bit her lip as she does when she's embarrassed. "Come on, play me somethin'. Whatever you were doin' before."
She played a few chords again and stumbled on a few transitions before giving up completely. "It's no good. Let me practice some more and get better first."
"No, no, you're fine. Here." He crawled behind her and pressed himself right up against her back, his large hands covered hers on the body of the guitar. He leaned over her shoulder to look at the sheet music before her. He pressed on the strings himself, but took her hand in his and strummed together.
They played through the song twice, her voice sweeping sweetly across the room. When he was satisfied with her progress, he put the guitar down beside them and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting her lean back into with a sigh. He reached over to the sheet music book and finally had a look. "What is this anyway? 'Simple Popular Country Songs Vol. 5'? Is this what the kids listen to these days?"
She traced a pattern on his knee with the tip of her index finger. "It was a present. It's supposed to be good for beginners."
Her touch, light as a feather, tickled his skin and he caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss. He interlaced his fingers in hers and felt each slender finger curl into his empty spaces. "You've been at this for a while. I never even noticed you getting your calluses before this."
She swat his chest lightly with her other hand. "A girl doesn't want to hear about her calluses." She paused for a full minute, debating whether or not she should continue. "I started learning after you left. James said that it'd make me more marketable; he was the one who gave me the book. He told me that's how Kelly started too." He had hurt when he lost his ex-lover, sometimes-mentor, but the wistful tone in her voice made him realize that Chiles had also lost her life-long idol. "He used to make me practice every night. At least three hours, usually more. My fingers used to hurt so much and I kept puttin' Vaseline on it hopin' the burning would go away. And then I'd have to go into the studio and take all these classes. Dance classes, acting classes, singing classes, speech classes. He said you needed to be all of these things these days to really make it big."
He murmured, his voice in deep in her ear. "He's wrong, you know. You have all the talent you need. People just want to hear good music. They wanna hear you sing."
She shook her head, her curls brushed like against his arms and shoulders. "Naw, he was right. Or at least he thought he was right. He was just tryin' to do right by me, tryin' to do what's best. After the funeral, he just threw himself into his work."
"Not much changed there."
"He was kind to me. Tough, but... kind. He didn't mean for things to become too much and even after pouring all this money into it, he let me go when I said I wanted to come here. With you." She pushed herself off his chest and rested a hand there before resting the front of her body on him so that she could look at what she came back for. "He pushed me and my fingers hurt, but it was my dream. Unlike everyone else who just saw me as some dumb beauty queen they could make money off of, he really just wanted to help."
"Well, he always did like you. I mean, even when we were on tour."
She squinted her eyes at the way his gaze avoided hers. "Wait, was that why- Beau Hutton! Were you jealous?"
"I don't know what you're talkin' about."
"The day after our pageant party, is that why you were so mean to me? Because you thought-"
"I didn't know, all right? I just thought- I mean you always hear about big shot guys like him takin' advantage of young girls and it was late at night- Oh stop smilin' like that!" He couldn't help the grin on his own face as he realized how silly he had been this whole time, to keep seeing something that wasn't even there. He gladly received the kiss as she leaned in to him. She pulled away and sat back on her heels before he could hold her tight in his arms like he wanted to. "I should make you practice some more as punishment for being such a tease."
"Doesn't hurt anymore. Calluses, remember?" She wiggled her long white fingers at him. "I get a little bit stronger..." she began to sing. She jumped on her feet and began to twirl. In the middle of his living room, her white dress reflecting the sunlight, Beau couldn't do anything but watch.
