'Frisco.

Chapter Seven.

"It's beautiful." Bonnie spoke almost like a whisper. We were both sat on the piano stool, looking over the sheet music I had.

"It is. I've had it since I was 7 and it hasn't done me wrong yet. I was so worried that it might become damaged during the move." I frowned, remembering how I couldn't rest until I saw my precious baby settled in my room.

Silence filled the air and I finally spoke, "You can play it if you want, Bonnie." I chuckled.

Her fingers had been itching over the keys for the entire time we've been up here. I understood that feeling. The urge to press a piano key is very strong when music is your passion.

"I don't know..." she trailed off. I could tell she was nervous that she might accidentally damage something.

"Trust me Bonnie, its survived over 9 years. You won't break it."

She looked up to me. I could see a faint smile playing on her mouth before she looked down to the piano. I moved off the stool to allow her arms full extension. She took a deep breath and began to play.

I don't know what I expected. Well actually, I know I expected less than that. As rude as it may sound, I didn't have complete faith in Bonnie's skill and was nervous that she might be terrible. I worried for nothing. Bonnie can play very, very well. I sat in awe, my mouth agape as I heard the melody that filled the room as a result of her fingers gliding across the keys. I could tell she became lost in the music because she began to sway, her body relaxing. I knew that coaxing her to play would break the awkward barrier between us; almost as if the piano was what allowed her to feel comfortable around me. I smiled to myself as the last note rung out.