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His hands were gentle. That’s what she thought of the most when she held them, they were soft too, except for the tips of his fingers which were calloused from the strings of his violin and dedicated years of playing it.
Mint was a lot like his hands, speaking with a calm, soothing voice. The way he held himself with perfect posture, spine straight and hands neatly folded or at his sides when not in use. There was the softness to his rigidity, in the way he beamed and addressed a crowd before and after a performance.
There he stood, at resting position with his violin under one arm, bow pointed at the floor in the other. He was saying something about the melody he was about to play, the way the notes had been inspired by a good friend. He had many of those, his compassion and firm boundaries attracting only those of good intent. Cocoa struggled to do the same, heart too soft, too warm. She didn’t have the same capacities for “no” that Mint had. She hoped that maybe someday, she’d learn that ability from him, if she watched closely enough.
A sharp whine of horsehair upon synthetic string awoke Cocoa from her thoughts, and her eyes widened in awe. How could such a sound exist?
Mint’s brows were furrowed in concentration, the whine easing into a wailing cry. It was so mournful that Cocoa wondered how it could be one of Mint’s pieces, his music was usually so uplifting, and this made her want to cry along with it. The melody wept, a tale of longing and grief. The notes wove through the room slowly and aching, then ran with desperation as if trying to reach something just out of reach. Could it be done? Would answers be given? The piece arrived at a long, drawn out note fading into near silence. The audience was on the edge of their seats waiting, yearning with the song for the next part.
It came slowly, staggering, and if it wasn’t Mint playing the story Cocoa would wonder if it was meant to sound so jolting and awkward. But it became steadier, a sureness entering the melody that hadn’t been there even at the start. The agony melted away, giving way to a bittersweet symphony, minor key shifting into major as the speed picked up again, this time filled with a lighter feeling. The joy was just as infectious as the longing, and as Cocoa tore her eyes away for a moment to look into the crowd, she saw their teary smiles reflecting her own.
As the last draw of bow on string lifted, there was a deep pause before Mint lowered his violin back to rest.
The audience came to life as if released from a spell that only he could hold. Applause filled the small stadium, and one by one they stood to further express the sentiment of appreciation. Mint was beaming now, overjoyed at the positive response to his music. His eyes flickered through the gathering, as if looking for someone, smile dimming slightly the longer it took to find them
Then they landed on her, green and intelligent, looking right at her, and he glowed. What did she ever do to deserve such an honor? To be the one he searched for? Cocoa didn’t know, but he made her happy. With those kind eyes and gentle hands and beautiful music. So, she smiled back.
And to him? She was glowing just as bright.