demisexualronan:
He stops talking and plays through a fast series of notes. His fingers fly along the lute’s strings in a
blur of motion, but the notes each come out crisp and clear, absolute perfection. He plays for what
seems like a long time. There is a story in his notes as he makes up the melody, something cheery and
wistful, maybe even humorous, some secret joke. I want him to answer us, but at the same time, I
don’t want him to stop playing.
Finally, he pauses to look at me.
“Who’s Magiano?”
I love this edit of my dear Magiano. :) :)
Published on December 11, 2015 20:31