|& 03 - commentlog (closed to Lily) ||
[The far side of the Temple, near the capybara pools. Eliot remembers it; he's even there in the early afternoon - the early bird gets the worm. Lily's not a worm, but the sentiment is not far off the mark. Oh, who's he kidding? He hasn't even opened his mouth and his foot is in it.
This evening's music lesson is going to be awesome, he can tell.
Meeting a girl on his own, no Fiona to pester him - no Julie to encourage him, or be the girl. But, he likes talking with Lily and promised to teach her a bit about music.
That explains why he is unpacking Lady Dawn from her case (he still can't believe she would one day become a guitar for him) and tuning her. Technically, Eliot has no training in this, but he knows how she is supposed to sound and that is guidance enough.
Content with the sound, he lays her back in the case, then pulls out the panpipes. And swallows with sudden nerves. Louis's performance echoes in his head, flawless and proud even a day later.
He should be letting Louis teach Lily. Eliot knows that with every ounce of brutal, self-deprecating honesty in his being. Why did he promise to do this again?
Because the music calls to him, even if his stomach is an insectarium of lepidopterian population. He wants to play and, maybe even play for people. It's expression and existence bundled into one.
So he stays over fleeing, waiting for his supposed pupil.]
This evening's music lesson is going to be awesome, he can tell.
Meeting a girl on his own, no Fiona to pester him - no Julie to encourage him, or be the girl. But, he likes talking with Lily and promised to teach her a bit about music.
That explains why he is unpacking Lady Dawn from her case (he still can't believe she would one day become a guitar for him) and tuning her. Technically, Eliot has no training in this, but he knows how she is supposed to sound and that is guidance enough.
Content with the sound, he lays her back in the case, then pulls out the panpipes. And swallows with sudden nerves. Louis's performance echoes in his head, flawless and proud even a day later.
He should be letting Louis teach Lily. Eliot knows that with every ounce of brutal, self-deprecating honesty in his being. Why did he promise to do this again?
Because the music calls to him, even if his stomach is an insectarium of lepidopterian population. He wants to play and, maybe even play for people. It's expression and existence bundled into one.
So he stays over fleeing, waiting for his supposed pupil.]