Since meeting Lexi, he hadn’t felt the desire to play. But the sheer concept of losing her brought him back to the comforting melody of the songs only he and his mother knew every note to.
Rao sat on the bed and faced the wind as he brought the flute to his lips. Everything rushed back to him in all of its eternal beauty and suffering, the memories of his parents, how pure of soul they were, the deep grief he still held in his heart, and the emptiness inside of him that he always knew could never be replaced.
The songs returned to his fingers the way paint strokes returned to an artist. He closed his eyes as the rain began to fall outside. The pattern of the raindrops falling against the ancient stone sounded in rhythm with his playing, falling into harmony like a practiced duet.
Rao completely lost his sense of self, the storm, and the passing of time. He simply became one with the memories of his mother and father, the love they all once shared as a family. He mused over the feelings, bathing in the enchantment of it all.
He was so deep into the music that he didn’t hear someone creep into the room, slowly taking their place in the corner. They sat there for a few songs until Rao seemed to end one particularly melancholic tune, then they subtly cleared their throat.
Rao shot his wide eyes over to the dark corner, thinking it was Riley, hell, even his brother. But his heart melted when he spotted smooth crossed legs peeking out of the black and saw that the person who had snuck into the room was the only person he wanted to see.
“That was beautiful,” Lexi whispered.
She leaned out of the dark, her stunning blonde hair flowing down her shoulders with a sweet smile across her face.
Her green eyes shone like a lighthouse in the dark at him. It was a similar color as the sky, continuing to boom outside with large raindrops slamming against the roof.
Rao tucked the flute behind his back, bashful. “Thank you,” he said, looking between his legs. “No one except my mother has ever heard me play before.”
Lexi stood from the corner behind him and moved around the bed. She traced his shoulders with her fingers as she walked around, making Rao break out in goosebumps.
She sat next to him, letting her hand linger on his leg. “I was gonna say,” Lexi spoke softly, gazing down, “I didn’t know you played anything at all.”
Rao nodded. He could feel the room pulsing like a radio signal was directly lined up with his heart and was trying to communicate with Lexi’s.
“I, um …” Rao began, struggling to find the words, “I started when I was young. My mother taught me. It took me forever to pick it up again after she died.”
Lexi wrapped a hand around Rao’s knee, comforting him, nodding and listening intently. Rain smacked against the window like someone was using a punching bag.
“And when you did?” Lexi asked breathlessly.
That was when Rao lifted his eyes to hers. It was difficult, like looking at the sun, but if she was going to leave him, she needed to see his entire soul. He had to know that he had given his all before she turned away from his love.
“When I did,” he said, clearing his throat. “When I did, I decided to keep it to myself. My brother hadn’t known about it, but we haven’t spoken in ages, as you know … and I just didn’t tell anyone. It felt like an intimate thing.”
Lexi lifted her eyes to his. They were glassed over, sparkling under the dim light Rao had clicked on the side table. Rao was a swirl of emotions, some of them happy that she had walked in and was sitting there, while others interpreted his expressed sadness with the thought of her departure.
Either way, he knew he had to know right then and there.
“An intimate thing between you and your mother?” Lexi said, her voice breaking.
The sound made Rao’s own eyes fill with tears. All at once, he wished that his parents had been there to meet Lexi. Whether she was going to stay or not, he wanted more than anything to have his mother embrace her and know that she was her son’s mate.
The thought made his throat go dry, and a single tear ran down his cheek.
Lexi lifted a hand instantly to catch it, rubbing it off with her thumb. Rao smiled at her, sniffing and trying to gather himself together.
“Yeah,” he said. “I felt like it was just our thing.”
Lexi let her hand linger on his cheek. Rao closed his eyes and leaned against her hand, adoring the comforting warmth her skin offered.
The silence between them was deafening, the only sound the crackle of the lightning against the endless range of Nova Aurora.
“I think you should continue,” Lexi said, shattering the quiet with her sweet timbre. “I would like to hear the rest of your concert.”
Rao leaned away from her hand and balked, frowning with a subtle hint of irritation. “Lexi,” he began, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. I have to know. I’m in too much pain.”
Lexi picked up the flute that Rao had placed on the bed behind him. She held it in her palms just as gently as Rao had held it when he pulled it from the case.