Sunlight streamed through the trees, bathing the porch in light. The warmth made the air heavy-contentedly, peacefully-and the quiet was broken only by the simple strumming of a guitar.
And then, not long after a few notes are left to hang in the hazy air, a voice-untrained, but pleasant enough-joined the notes, Spanish intertwining easily with
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Yep, it's been a pretty popular instrument back in my house for a long time. Do you play?
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What really catches his eye is the boy in the dream and what Spain calls him. He recalls Spain speaking a lot about his dear Romano, even if Akihiko couldn't really grasp what the relationship between them was. Be it a parent and child, siblings or something else entirely, he know his friend was deeply fond of him. Such a peaceful dream was good for them both, really.]
Heh... Did Romano listen to you play a lot?
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Yeah, he did. I mean, I guess he didn't really have a choice, since he was always around when I played.
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You are being too freakin' loud.
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Good morning, Rita!
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I don't even want to know why you were dreaming of playing the guitar so damn early in the morning.
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A Samick?
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I'm sure they do. I like my guitar, though.
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