your melody sounds as sweet
as the first time it was sung
They fall into a natural rhythm of dancing and singing the night away; with a Firewhiskey or two (or three, or five) they stumble back to… to… what was it she called it- go "folkin' around". Charlie and Tonks are trapped in a whirlwind of desire, their hearts caught somewhere between the salvation and the sin. They fumble with words of confession, and then release that there is nothing: this is indescribable.
Even days after he leaves her flat, the pounding rain drenching him in reminders of her joyous tears, Charli still hears Tonks' - not Nymphadora, Tonks, she chided him – offbeat singing.
(in the face of heartbreak, it's never sounded as sweet)