My winter's giving way to warm, as I'm singing him to sleep.
She saw him in a different light, sitting on the hood of his car in the parking lot of the deserted beach, no one else around for miles. Inside, the small green digits of the clock flashed 11:23 and when she listened closely she could hear the radio static as it faintly leaked through. Her toes kept sliding in and out of her shoes due to nerves, mostly. He'd never made her nervous before. Perhaps it was the humid August air.
He was busy examining his guitar which was old, fragile, and painfully out of tune. He strummed it tenderly, trying to procure the perfect pitch. The two sat in near silence aside from the instrument's tiny cries and the almost nonexistent lull of the unfocused radio. The only audible sound was that of the waves as they crashed on to shore. She closed her eyes as if to listen better, as a cool ocean breeze swept over them, blowing back her hair, and echoing as it shook the locked doors of the public rest rooms. Though he didn't seem to realize it, he was the one who was orchestrating this symphony of the night, which, she decided right then, had to be the most beautiful song that had ever passed through her ears.
She knew very little about his world of notes, strings, and harmonies, but even she could tell that the rhythm was just right, for it was flawlessly in sync with the beat of her heart. He looked up and smiled, noticing her feet swaying to the beat. The stars brightened over head as he played on, and she fell hopelessly in love.
He was busy examining his guitar which was old, fragile, and painfully out of tune. He strummed it tenderly, trying to procure the perfect pitch. The two sat in near silence aside from the instrument's tiny cries and the almost nonexistent lull of the unfocused radio. The only audible sound was that of the waves as they crashed on to shore. She closed her eyes as if to listen better, as a cool ocean breeze swept over them, blowing back her hair, and echoing as it shook the locked doors of the public rest rooms. Though he didn't seem to realize it, he was the one who was orchestrating this symphony of the night, which, she decided right then, had to be the most beautiful song that had ever passed through her ears.
She knew very little about his world of notes, strings, and harmonies, but even she could tell that the rhythm was just right, for it was flawlessly in sync with the beat of her heart. He looked up and smiled, noticing her feet swaying to the beat. The stars brightened over head as he played on, and she fell hopelessly in love.