FATE

69. Crying Breaks

BROOKE

"You're late"

"You weren't exactly specific on the time", I say.

Loki leans against the small couch, his legs stretched out and resting on the edge of the balcony. The violin lies on his stomach and he plays with the bow in his hand, his gaze on the night sky above. Attached to the space above the door behind him is a light bulb and the white light makes his face glow. His curly hair is packed up neatly. I place the chair in my hand on the balcony and sit gently.

"I'm relieved you're here anyway", he glances at me, "and you brought a chair"

"I'm not sure how long I'll be here"

"Fair enough", he drops his legs and stands, "ready?"

"Just like that?"

Under the illumination of the light, I see him roll his eyes.

"Okay then", I mutter.

He begins to play. As his fingers caress the slender strings, he closes his eyes. Under the light, he looks like some sort of angel violinist in black sweatpants and a black hoodie. The symphony is tender yet piercing. The vibrations make me feel relaxed and at peace.

His eyebrows furrow and he stops quickly. Then he gazes at me.

"Is that all?", I ask.

"No", he shakes his head and collapses back on the couch.

"Is something wrong?"

"No", he says softly, "I just tend to lose my zeal once in a while"

I place my arms on the balcony and rest my chin on them, "I know what that's like"

It took three days to do my laundry completely because at certain points, I let thoughts about Jonah distract me and I had to take crying breaks. My crying breaks are usually long.

"Why did you want me to listen to you?", I ask.

"You remind me of someone", he says without looking at me, "and I believe music has a way of healing people"

I look up at him and his gaze meets mine, "why would you think I need healing?"

He smirks, "do you?"

I shake my head.

"I saw you crying the other day", he says, "I came back to take my phone and when I opened the door, you were crying and didn't notice- so I went back in"

I bite my lip. I need to start learning how to cry in my room and my room alone.

"If I had known you came out to cry, I would have given you space earlier", he adds.

"I didn't come out to cry", I look down at the small wooden fence separating the two houses.

"Well, you're hurting anyway and I thought playing for you would at least lessen it in a way", he clears his throat and I look up at him, "not that I care about you or anything"

I lean away from the rail and chuckle, "you ruined it"

He shrugs, "I just don't like seeing pretty girls cry"

I smile, "thank you"

"So, truth for truth?", he leans back into the chair.

"I don't exactly feel comfortable with telling strangers things about myself"

"Touché", he places his legs back on the edge of the balcony, "but you heard me play. I don't mean to sound proud or anything but not a lot of people get that privilege"