Hushed Willows Gentle on My Mind

She nodded, smiling, every time a 'nother doubt crept into his voice. He always talked so much - she wondered if it was something within his family that had caused this, like her proper manners were within her own. Parents often didn't realize how much they shaped their children, how much they took from them within knowing... It was strangely disturbing to the small fae. How much of her father's mercilessness had she in her? How much of her mother's habits of blood lust and suffering?

I can... close my eyes if you want me to. She replied to his last comment before his performance, closing them no matter the answer so she could focus better. Though he said not to have high expectations, she always had them; it was probably the reason she was disappointed so much, especially in individuals such as Donovan. But, even if Dante went as far off key as one could possibly manage, she would probably still be satisfied. That he was willing to do this, to make her at ease and to play fair, said more about him than the beauty of his voice ever could.

In the pause before he began, one eyelash fluttered as she opened an eye to get a quick glimpse of him. He closed his eyes in turn, she did the same as she drifted away, carried by the soft notes and melody. She felt light listening to him - the meaning of his words lost only because she was focused on the voice. Was this what it had felt like, listening to her? She supposed she was obliged to share then her gift, share the joy... though she almost selfishly wanted this to belong to only Dante and her.

I've got nothing on your voice, if that was what you were worried about... She eventually spoke, having come closer to him without having realized. If allowed to do so, she'd rest her head against his shoulder, a content little smile on her maw as she sighed a deep breath. You're lucky to have grown up around music like that - I'm quite jealous, and curious.