Not too long ago, I was presented a wonderful gift by Victor and wished to share the story with you all. To read Victor’s initial recounting of the tale, click here.

***

I thought something seemed peculiar today, when I finally decided my skin might rebel against my body if I did not answer the pressing need for a shower. Not that the compulsion for a shower was in any way strange, but when it led me to kiss Victor’s shoulder and inform him I would return shortly, I could not help but to pick up on my lover’s demeanor and perk an eyebrow at it. Nothing alarming about his posture rang warning bells of caution within my mind. No, instead there was an aura I could not quite place a finger on emanating from him, leading me to wonder just what the devil might be circling through Victor’s mind.

I could have easily read it, but I made a promise to myself when he and I first became lovers that I would never abuse my powers in such a way. I preferred to hear his thoughts aloud; to listen to his voice inflection and immerse myself within the soothing warmth of the tenor of his speech. And I knew he needed the sanctuary of private ruminations as much as I did, to sort through things without the eavesdropping of his psychic paramour.

It did not stop me from being curious, however, and after asking him once if all was well, I accepted the pleasant smile and the nod as a sure sign nothing pressing held Victor within its throes. The sight of his smile caused me to smile as well and before I knew it, I found myself in the bathroom, turning on the water and letting the area surrounding me fill with steam. I stretched out the remaining tension from sleep out of my muscles and stepped under the stream, allowing the hot water to rain on my head before I set about the task of washing up.

I had my hair lathered with shampoo when I heard the sound of footsteps and found my thoughts drifting back to Victor. Memories of recent days played across my mind like notes of music dancing to a melody and brought with it the familiar shivers my lover always seemed to inspire. I recalled walking to the bathroom and the half second pause as my hand touched the doorknob, temptation tickling at my subconscious with the desire to ask if Victor wished to join me. Something stopped me, an inclination as queer as the sense emanating from my lover before I departed his presence.

Shaking my head, I rinsed the shampoo from my hair. I fetched a washcloth and the soap, lathering my body next and continuing to allow my thoughts to drift.

Inside my mind’s eye, I saw what usually transpired whenever I did coax him into the shower and could not help but to close my eyes and attempt to relive the feel of his body, slick with water, sliding against mine underneath the stream. The heated kisses which often made the temperature around us that much warmer and the taste of his blood, running like rivulets down his neck as I drank from him. I could hear his voice as though his lips were pressed against my ear, whispering the moans of pleasure and the sighs of contentment which made up the peaks and valleys of our episodes with one another.

Drawing a deep breath inward, I rinsed the soap from my body. Shutting off the water, I stepped out and reached for a towel, drying off before wrapping the towel around my waist. The sound of footsteps moving away from the bedroom caused me to perk an eyebrow and grin. For a few lingering moments, I considered pursuing the owner of the footsteps, but turned first toward the mirror, following the compulsion to complete my grooming rituals before seeing to my lover.

I approached the mirror, reaching to wipe the condensation from the glass. Furrowing my brow at the faintest embers of something trying to emerge on the other side, I could not help but to smile, but not at the normal thoughts inspired by the taunt of shadows in the looking glass. Rather, the sound of piano music commencing in another place within the house drifted into the bathroom and before I could reach for a razor, I found myself locked in an unrelenting thrall. Yes, possibility was a welcomed thought and a brighter prospect than ever before. Reality, however, became the more pleasant notion, the longer I thought on it.

Reality, with all its promise spread across the horizon of eternity, painted across the landscape in vibrant tones and infecting each note and measure of the symphony of life. Rubbing my hand across the stubble on my chin, I struggled with a silent debate, wanting to drift toward the sound of the piano rather than finish all my rituals, enticed by more memories; dances shared, humming with my lover, noses brushing against noses while we swayed to the melody. Before long, the temptation became too much and I walked out to the bedroom, turning for the walk-in closet where my suits hung.

Passing by the bed, though, the sight of something in my periphery caused me a moment’s pause.

I backtracked and turned to face it, furrowing my brow.

The sight of a dark case resting on the freshly-made bed proved to be a strange contrast to the comforter spread out underneath it. I studied it, trying to recall if it had been there before I disappeared inside the bathroom. In the background, the piano music continued unabated while I walked closer to the bed, eyes set completely on the case while a thousand notions cycled with a million theories attached to what the devil this could be. Its placement deliberate, I did not sense myself violating any privacy in resting my hands on it. In fact, it seemed to be calling my name.

The smooth material on the outside of the case felt pleasant to the touch and I permitted myself a few moments to run my fingertips across it before finding the zipper and dragging it open. Lifting the lid, I took a step back when I spied what laid inside the cushion of soft, maroon-colored velvet. My smile brightened at once.

A violin. I folded my arms across my chest and cupped the side of my face with my hand while a delighted chuckle escaped my lips. My gaze caressed the sight of the instrument, admiring the quality, studying the wood’s grain and tracing across each string before I could not hold back the compulsion to handle it any longer. Stepping toward the bed once more, I reached for the violin, gently plucking it from its resting place and lifting it with both hands with all the tenderness of lifting a child. The light weight settled in my hands, as though I was always meant to hold it.

My fingers skimmed across the wood. I plucked the strings lightly, relishing the sound they made, while recalling the first time I ever discussed instruments with my eternal companion.

***

I nodded at Victor, lost within the thought of the last time I had been to the symphony with my brother and several others from our coven. “We listened to a selection of classical music,” I said. “I wish I could recall the who’s or even the period for you, but I cannot. You would have loved it, though.” Grinning, I shut my eyes. “The strings and horns in perfect harmony with woodwinds and percussion. Staring as a whisper and building to a crescendo.”

He smiled at the expression on my face. “There might be some hope for you yet, brother,” he said, chuckling, “At least as far as appreciating music goes. Did you ever play? I know it’s common now, for children in school to at least attempt an instrument.”

Lifting one eyelid to regard my lover, a smile crept at the corners of my mouth. “I attempted the piano. My mother enjoyed playing from time to time and I took lessons.” The recollection caused a frown to replace the grin I had been entertaining. I opened both eyes. “I wish I would have taken it more seriously.”

I do not know if he sensed the reasons why, the fledgling compulsion burning within me to immerse myself within the music and look for him inside the notes. How close I felt to him when listening to the music he enjoyed. How much I found myself enjoying it as well. The chords struck within me, both for him and the melodies of old.

Victor laughed. “You have plenty of time to learn. A distinct advantage.” He nodded. “There are several vampire musicians that I know who are attempting to reenter the public spotlight. Some of them have instruments dating back to the times of the original masters.”

“What could you see me playing?” I asked, smiling.

He tilted his head to consider me. “Hmm. I suppose I should ask first what type of instruments you’re partial to. I’m a woodwind player at heart.” Victor paused, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. “For you, I would say strings. The movement of a bow over the frets is something akin to using a blade. It would probably be almost natural.”

I grinned, straightening my posture on the chair where I sat. “Hmm… I could play the violin, then. I do confess, I have always wondered at those able to play them with proficiency.” My gaze turned more deliberate. Searching. “Tell me, though. If I learned, would you play pieces with me?”

“Of course, brother,” he said, grinning broadly. “I’m a decent study at several instruments, my favorite being the bassoon. It actually would compliment a violin rather nicely.”

My smile brightened. “I like this prospect, then.” Standing, I walked close to him, eyes fixed on the sight of the man I was becoming more and more enthralled with as each day passed. “I have never attempted to play a violin, though. I might need your help to grow accustomed to the practice.”

His head inclined in acceptance. “Of course. I know enough to get you started, and can easily teach you the basics of music besides those centered around the instrument.” Victor’s eyes met mine, a slow smile spreading. “I rather like the idea of us creating music together.”

I nodded. My smile turned to mirror his. “As do I.”

***

Now that I found myself holding the instrument in my hands, the rush of euphoria could not be paralleled. I spent a few extra moments handling it, studying everything from the frets to the shape of its body before I placed it back into its case and stared at it a few moments more. I touched the bow and pictured the dance engaged in each time I handled a sword. I could not help but to be all the more taken by the comparison Victor made between the bow and blade all those weeks ago. My eagerness to lift the instrument and play with proficiency reminded me of a distant echo; of handling the sword for the first time, wanting to command mastery of that which I held.

The sound of the piano knocked me from my thoughts.

Turning my head to gaze at the open doorway, I smiled and nodded to myself, ending my entranced appreciation of the violin long enough to close the case and dash into the walk-in closet for something to wear. Within moments, I was adjusting the cuffs of my shirt and sliding the tails beneath the waistband of my pants. Closing fastenings and buckling belts, I at least found myself in enough order to walk out to the hallway and follow the siren song of ivory keys to where the piano was situated.

My hands found Victor’s shoulders, which ceased the play of music and left us surrounded by the echoes of the piece he played. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I held him tight and the silence formed its own cocoon around us, enclosing us within the love we share with one another before I sat beside him on the piano bench. He looked at me, his brown eyes searching and I responded the best way I knew possible.

Leaning forward, I touched lips with him softly before sinking into a deep embrace for several lingering moments. I felt him kiss me back, our eyes both closed while my hand lifted to touch his face, sliding back to his neck almost to hold him in place for the time being. One kiss rolled into the next, flowing unabated, until I forced myself away just enough to touch noses with him. My eyes remained closed, but I felt his open to study me again.

“Did you find a surprise, lover?” he asked.

I grinned, my delight unable to be contained. “Yes,” I said. “You would never believe what happened to me when I got out of the shower. There was this rather pleasant piano music which led me out of the bathroom and when I emerged from within, I discovered somebody had placed something on the bed.”

We exchanged a chuckle. Our lips met in another kiss, lasting for the briefest of moments. “I take it you like it?”

I nodded. “It is perfect, lover. Absolutely perfect.”

We smiled and from there, the words of love and adoration continued, being passed one to the other with equal measures while I fought hard against the urge to continue kissing him. Thoughts of the future play yet within my mind, with the comfort and excitement of all things waiting for us out in the world.

No matter what, we shall always have our music and have each other. And quite frankly, I cannot wait to experience each and every blessed day.

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