Thread: The Musician's Overture [GGentleman x Soft Strokes]

Cecilia didn't know what to do with herself now. She'd entered her apartment, and now she just.. Stood there. She might've felt shame, if that emotion wasn't throttled so easily by the feelings of anguish, anger and sadness. This wasn't a nice place, like what Vivian was most probably used to. It was a place to stay. Roof over her head. It was the best she could do, with the meager jobs she took. She looked over her place again, when carefully 'complimented' by Vivian. She grunted lightly a single time, shaking her head as she lowered her head, finally moving towards the Guitar stand. Wait till you see the toilet.. That's where the luxuries really shines through. She cocked a half chuckle, as she put the Guitar down, eyes aiming for the ground. This was a hint at the person Vivian knew. Probably the first one, that whole night, apart from the musical talent. Cecilia had always been very sarcastic, and loved to spin words of sarcasm. A trait she'd gotten from her family, bleeding a humorous, joyful sarcasm. Placing the Guitar on the stand, her fingers gently stroked the tip of her instruments neck, with a single finger, as she breathed in deeply. Hearing Vivian sit down, she finally turned around, looking down to Vivian for a moment. She stood there for a while, before finally breaking free of herself again. A part of her, wanted to just look at Vivian. Be in the same room as her, for an eternity, just to have a chance to look at her. But the moment she started speaking, Cecilia snapped out of it, heading towards her kitchen. Cecilia listened, as she picked out two glass', filling both with water before coming back. She walked over to Vivian, looking down at her, clearly trying her best to get everything she said. Her accent. It'd gotten so much thicker. Cecilia had never wanted her accent to be choked entirely. She liked it. It was both charming and cute. Both reasons, Vivian probably wanted to throttle it. She placed one glass on the coffee table in front of Vivian, before turning around, pacing across the room slowly, as she listened, looking to the ground. Not everything was on her. Not her entire plight. She'd have to mention that, eventually. But that would mean reminiscing a cherished, but painful memory. Cecilia leaned against the wall, besides the TV stand, slowly sliding down with her back against the hard surface, sitting down. She curled her knees close to her torso, but with her legs somewhat apart, allowing space for her member. She bit at her lower lip, as her eyes returned to Vivian's, taking in her explanation wholesomely. She took tiny, calculated gulps of her water, in between Vivian's words. Cecilia's speculations, had been somewhat correct. It had been her aspiration, and goals, that'd lead her away from her. In a sense, it had been Cecilia's own doing. She hadn't made it clear, just how deep her loved wen't. How far she might've gone for it. But. She was possibly right. Cecilia might not've left with her. Might not've joined her. But having the choice, meant everything. If it'd been that way, she would've understood. She could've replaced one sorrow, with another, when her brother died. Mourned him, and gone back to her own life, remembering both of them, fondly. But she never had that chance. When asked if she'd listen, Cecilia had pulled her legs a little closer, now resting both arms on top of her knees, and her cheek on top of those, eyes gazing towards Vivian in her couch. One of her hands slowly spun the glass of water in it, causing the clear liquid to swing around in a slow dance of obedience. Her head slowly nodded, but she gave no answer, just looking to Vivian with empty, thoughtful eyes. And as Vivian started, Cecilia took in a hoarse breath, gulping a single time as she listened. At the mention of what Cecilia had learned back then, a tiny smile crept up on her lips. The Piano, had been a chore. It was purely Vivian's fault, that she hadn't given up on that. Luckily, she'd kept fighting with it, and eventually learned to play it, while singing as well. Now, it had become a second breath. As easy as stretching your muscles out in the morning, in order to walk straight. Then, when Vivian called her Violin stupid, she looked up with an expression of light shock. She'd never thought she'd hear that from her. She'd loved her Violin. It was a glorious instrument, far from overrated, as some proclaimed. So many emotions could bleed from a bow, and the instrument who's strings it strum, did not have to large. Personally, she would never understand Vivian's plight there. That passion, to learn more, where more where to be learnt. Cecilia never had that. Music, was a way of expression, to Cecilia. The ability to express emotions, she otherwise couldn't. If something fell natural to her, she stuck with it. She'd never learn another instrument, than the two she already knew. She didn't want to, and didn't feel she had to. But she understood that was how Vivian felt. Not even extremely surprised, once the shock had subsided. Vivian had wanted more. When mentioning she didn't want to hurt anyone by leaving, Cecilia's eyes closed, stroking her cheek against her arm, as she hid her face from Vivian's. Bad things often happened, with the best of intentions. This, was one such thing. More and more speculation arose from Vivian's side. Thinking she'd known what Cecilia would've thought. How she would've felt. She had been so painfully wrong n the assumption that leaving without a note, was best for her, how could she think she knew anything else? Cecilia could feel her anger building at the assumptions from Vivian's side. These empty promises, that she thought she knew best. It may have just been spur of the moment claims, but it stuck with Cecilia. 'You wouldn't like it in the city'. No maybe not alone. But maybe, just maybe, she could've come to like it, by Vivian's side. When asked to understand her, Cecilia slowly rose her head to look back up. But when saying she'd leave again, her eyes whipped back to Vivian, as both hands slapped down on the floor. Nee, Vivya! Nee.. Dat kun je niet... You can't just.. Assume, to know what I want.. Especially not anymore. I'm not sure that I don't want to ever see you again.. How can you assume so? Unless you don't want me to!? She proclaimed loudly, before almost gasping in shock at her own reaction, as well as the water that'd now been spilled on the simple linoleum floor. She'd learnt something new about herself that day, if nothing else. When flustered, and angry, she turned to her mother tongue. She'd not done that, for so, so long. She didn't like it. She felt bad. But the frustration had to get out. Had to leave. You assumed you knew best.. Back then. And you now see, how that ended up? You got better.. You managed. You got.. Stuff.. Look what I have? All I have, is my.. My music. And.. And even that, has been tainted by the pain I felt. You made me vulnerable, in a time when I needed to be strong. Strong for my family's sake. Strong, for my sanity's sake. That.. That, could've been avoided, if I'd been given a choice. I could've been strong, at the funeral! I could've hugged my mother, to settle her tears! But, I didn't... I was feeling the weight of not one, but two loss' that week. But if I'd at least understood why I had to lose -one- of them, I could've maybe managed. But.. Her lips trembled, moving the back of one hand in front of her lips, as she started whimpering again, tears welling up into her eyes again, as she averted her gaze, looking down by her side instead. She took a few moments, before explaining. She didn't want to. She didn't want to remember her brother's face. Lying pale, and scratched in the coffin. Slowly, she managed to pull herself together, placing her hands close by her sides, pulling herself close up against the wall. If.. If you'd.. If you'd just given me a chance.. A chance to chose. She explained, moving both arms to hug herself, uncomfortable pain in her expression, as she looked around for something. Anything. But she'd never find the thing she looked for. That choice, could've meant.. Everything. You might've been right. I probably wouldn't have left with you. But.. Maybe you're wrong. I was strong.. Back then. You'd found the best in me, and I.. Loved it.. But.. You took that with you. Disappeared, along with the darkness of night. You'd build me. Stacked up my confidence. My voice. And.. All that.. You tore down, with one foul swoop. Cecilia whimpered, lowering her gaze into her lap, fingers digging into her sides at this point, as she hugged herself painfully. Her spine shivered, as her eyes whipped back up on Vivian, a low sneer escaping her. So I chose -not- to understand! I want to chose this time, and I don't want you to leave. Not yet! She shouted again, demanding that Vivian say. Demanding that Vivian face up to what she'd wrought. But in all truth, she was begging. Begging for Vivian to help her, find out what she wanted. Anger, hate, frustration, love, sorrow, joy. All these emotions where welling through her, and she couldn't control them. Couldn't understand them. Couldn't grasp any of it.