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Chorus

"Slow burner"

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I see her every Friday. Sitting in the front row, her shoulders straight, her music held in front of her, watching the conductor without concession, her focus complete. Eve. Her auburn hair pinned in a elegant twist over her shoulder, the strong, sweet line of her jaw set and the sound she makes… it would damn near melt your heart to hear her sweet, pure soprano reverberate around the room. Most amateurs like me watch her in awe and adoration, those in the choir who are more professional watch her with envy. Yet she sings, she packs up and she leaves, smiling sweetly to people she passes. We learned long ago not to compliment her despite the fact that the blush that colours her cheeks is infinitely more adorable than any other expression I have ever seen.

Today the rehearsal is quiet, the heavy snowfall over night has frightened any into staying home, but she takes up her usual position in the front row, she can be heard clearly tonight between the other two Sopranos who made it to rehearsal. She packs up quickly as usual at the end and makes her way into the snow, her charcoal coloured coat hugging the indent of her waist and the curve of her chest as she clutches her books in one hand and her bag in the other.

Driving home it is dark, the roads have been somewhat cleared, yet the snow continues to fall, obliterating what work has been done by the snow ploughs. There I spot her, trudging through the ankle deep snow in the dark, her collar turned up and her knees lifting high. I wind down my window and crawl along beside her.

"Eve, get in! Let me drive you home." She looks my way and smiles her sweet smile before shaking her head.

"I'm fine." Her shout is strained.

"Seriously, get in the car or I'll stop and throw you in," I call, hoping the humorous tone of my voice isn't lost into the night. She laughs, shaking her head before stepping closer to the car. "Good!"

"Thank you, Will." She sighs and she sits down and pulls the door shut, doing up her seatbelt. "I really only just live on the next street over though. It would have taken me less than five minutes." Her crystal blue eyes look at me piercingly, but I smile, trying not to show that her gaze has me, as always, completely slave me to her attention.

"Well, this will take half the time and you won't be frozen or damp." She raises her left eyebrow and looks down at herself.

"I'm already both of those things." Her laughter is a bell chime and I feel my heart clench.

"Let's get going." I try not to let her laughter and general countenance distract me as I very slowly take the entrance to the next street.

"It's the one on the end with the porchlight," she murmurs, straightening her hat slightly and tightening her scarf. "You wouldn't want to come in for a coffee or something? It's probably stupid to ask, considering the weather." She shakes her head at herself. My hesitation is due more to surprise than anything else. I watch her carefully as she prepares to leave my car as I pull up at where I think the edge of the pavement is.

"I'd love to, besides, I only live around the corner," I answer, perhaps too enthusiastically. It appears my mind is unwilling to pass up this opportunity for me to be alone with this woman who I have fantasised about for so long.

She pauses a second, her hand on the door and turns to smile. "Come on then." I follow her, slamming my car door shut and following her through a narrow gate towards the bright blue front door of her Victorian style terrace house. Her hands are shaking in their gloves as she pushes the key into the lock and then opens the door. Stepping inside, we are immediately engulfed by heat. "Come in and close the door would you." She seems breathless by the cold, her hands drop her music and keys onto a rustic wooden side table and she hastily takes over her damp outer layers, hanging them onto an old fashioned coat tree and abandoning her boots by the door. "Make yourself at home." She smiles over her shoulder at me as she pads lightly down the hall towards the kitchen. "Do you think you could start the wood burner? Everything you need should be there," she calls back to me, pointing into the room to the left.

I feel my attraction to her fast and hard in my chest. Her home smells like her, oranges and cinnamon with an additional hint of her wood burner. The furniture is rustic and comfortable as I peer around, taking in a fireplace and two cosy looking couches and walls adorned by colourful abstracts, a glossy mahogany piano to one side and book cases lining one wall. By the time she returns with a tray the fire is going and I am feeling accomplished. I haven't lit an actual fire in quite some time.

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"Well done, Sir," she teases gently. Her smile is free this time and there is something warmer about her here. She hands me a mug of coffee, gesturing to milk and sugar on the tray. "I didn't know how you liked it."

"Thank you, Eve."

"Call me Evie if you like. Everyone else does." I see her cheeks heat slightly and she frowns whilst doctoring her own coffee, as if chastising herself for something.

"Evie… I like it." She sits down and I sit beside her as she sips her coffee and then looks to me again. She hesitates for a moment, as though she's not quite sure what to do now. She returns her attention to her coffee again. "If I'm making you uncomfortable I'll go," I murmur softly, placing my mug down on the tray again and clasping my hands in front of me.

"No- Oh no, please don't. I'm not uncomfortable." Her small, elegant fingers land against my arm as she leans forward, placing her own mug down. I feel a zing of awareness as her touch registers through the cotton of my shirt. "I just… I don't invite men into my home much and really I have no idea what to talk about apart from the weather, or how well you lit the fire or just how much I enjoy listening to you sing." She laughs quietly at herself, shaking her head as she looks down and away, a nervous smile curling her lips. I'm scared to move to dislodge her hand, to frighten away her touch and to scare away the idea that she perhaps pays attention to me to a similar extent that I pay attention to her.

"You're astounding," I murmur, placing my hand over hers as I turn to face her more directly. She looks up again, her eyes catching mine.

 

*******

 

Now that he's here I have no idea what to do. It's one thing to smile at him in passing and think about him on the walk home, but a totally different ball game when he is sitting on my couch listening to me babble and be nervous. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest as his large powerful hand engulfs mine on his arm. His emerald eyes capturing mine and not letting go. I listen to him call me astounding and feel a flush creep over my skin. I curse my embarrassment and try to withdraw my hand but he doesn't let me.

"I mean it, Evie, you're astounding." His voice is low. A lock of his dark hair has fallen over his brow and I desperately want to reach out and brush it away, but instead he leans closer. "I've been waiting a long time to say that." I feel his breath brush gently over my cheek as his eyes keep mine in thrall. I cannot stop my body from leaning in closer in turn, my hand curling into his as he holding it tightly, his grip warm and sure. "You look like you want to kiss me, Evie."

I bite my lip, feeling my pulse quicken again and I watch my free hand reach out to brush that dark lock away all by itself, as though detached from my control. I caress his cheek, his stubbled skin rough to the touch as my hand cups his jaw.

"I always have."

His lips are on mine before I can take another breath, his free hand clasping the base of my spine and pulling me closer to him as my free hand runs around to cup the back of his neck. He is gentle, persuasive, but… forgiving in my nervousness, giving and taking, slowly, his lips pressing mine apart as our kiss becomes quietly explosive, the intimacy of it burning slowly through my body. Releasing my hand from his I pull myself up onto the couch, bringing myself closer as I break our kiss for just a moment.

"Will, don't leave." His eyes watch mine as he carefully drags me back into a kiss which excels in passion, his hands gripping me, pulling me into him, dragging me to straddle his thighs as my fingers twist into his hair. I can feel the power in his arms as he holds me, his fingers digging into my skin. I've never been claimed like this before and it is… liberatingly arousing.

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Written by RebeccaCatherine
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