Violin Girl

      “Do you remember that day back in November? When we celebrated your twentieth birthday, even though you had completely forgotten about it coming up,” Luz asked suddenly as she stopped reading another Hecazura fic in Spanish carefully and making sketchy notes in her phone for a future translation.       “Of course I do,” Amity's lively piercing eyes moved up, blindly turning her head to Luz's face. She was staying next to their sofa, absent-mindedly going over the latest sonata of hers. “You managed to catch me off guard with that stuffed bunny you sewed for me, no doubt. Why?”       Luz shifted and put her phone aside, taking in Amity's soft smile roused by tender memories, “It was the first time you had—”       “The first time I'd cried in front of you,” her smile faded immediately, her lips curled in pure disdain, and she frowned, lowering her mahogany violin half-heartedly, “got to admit that it was quite pathetic of me.”       “No, it wasn't!” Luz protested without second thought and reached for her slender hand, squeezing it soothingly and noticing contentedly that she didn't flinch this time. “And also it was the first time you had played for me. You played this song you had composed specially for me.” Amity's expression softened and she unmistakably looked into these lovely eyes of Luz's, seeing eternal stars explode in front of her own bloodless lids, crossed with a clearly visible web of vessels. “You pressed that exact violin against your neck and livened up that room with your lilting music. That day you chose to open up to me. It was one of the happiest days of my life, Violin Girl.”       Amity's loving smile came back as she was listening to her personal ray of light, yet she wasn't able to see any light at all. Not with her eyes at least. But she did feel it with her sensitive heart, “Of mine too, Storyteller.”