“I’m in love with a girl I’ve never met.” Time slips, and she is in his living room, perched on the piano bench, tea steaming on the windowsill as her absent fingers pick out the notes. “But I see her every night, it seems…” She is in his bed, his broad hands playing out the melody on skin. Her face flares hot at the memory as he sings. “And I’m so afraid, afraid that I’ll forget her, even though I’ve only met her in my dreams.”
