Page 52 of Enthrall Secrets
“We have each other.” I ran toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “We’re proving that every single moment must be savored. Not one second wasted.” I peered up at him. “Aren’t we?”
“I have you.”
“Play for me.”
He waved a hand in the air dismissively.
I pulled away from him and sat on the floor, crossing my legs. “I’m not moving until you play for me.”
“You’re so very stubborn, Scarlet,” he said, grinning. “Let’s have some tea. Go make me breakfast, you submissive, you.”
“No.”
“Come on. This is futile.”
“This is you.” I pointed to the cello. “This is who you are and you promised me every part of you.” I threw my hands up. “I thought you were in a band. You made me believe you were. I imagined you with spiked hair and tight leopard skin pants, playing the guitar terribly on a bad cover you’d recorded with your friends.”
“It was easier for me to let you think that rather than explain this.”
“This? This is incredible.”
He pointed to the cello. “It was once my great love. Now you are.”
“I’m not moving, Danton.”
“Then you’ll gather dust.”
“Danton! Get your ass in that chair. Now.”
“Ah, my sweet butterfly has stretched her wings and is now a dominatrix.”
I crossed my arms.
“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Once. Only because it’s you asking.”
Cheering, I pushed myself up and fetched a chair for him. Within minutes he’d dusted off the cello and sat with the instrument between his legs, the bow poised in his right hand.
A smile lit up his face. “It’s a good thing you’re already addicted to me.”
Those words couldn’t have been truer.
With my heart soaring, I watched, mesmerized, as he swept the bow over the strings masterfully, an elegant movement that proved he was one with the instrument. He made it look so easy. The way he brought the cello to life was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen or heard, musical ribbons flowing in and out continuously in strands of beauty as though light itself was morphing into notes, reaching every corner of the house.
His eyes remained closed as he played U2’s “With or Without You” - and seeing his expression, I understood Danton’s fear of losing this precious gift. It was like a profound affair between a man and his instrument. His music was utterly breathtaking.
As he brushed the strings with his bow, his face looked just as serene as when he was sleeping.
He suddenly grinned as though he could sense my reaction.
Swept away, awestruck, it was impossible not to let my tears fall.
Every evening, from that moment on, I’d curl up on our bed while Danton sat in a chair near the balcony and played his cello for me.
For me.
