Lucrezia and Mazonnia arrived outside the shop with a crack. Although she loved Apparating, she sometimes felt a little unsteady on her feet for a moment afterwards. Thankfully, she held Mazonnia's hand, and she steadied herself with relative ease. She turned to look at him, and smiled. She would miss London, especially now it held such fond memories for her, but she would make sure that she would take a walk along the Thames the next time she found herself there. She let go of Mazonnia's hand, and slipped it inside to find the key to open the shop door. She found it, unlocked the door, and stepped inside, with Mazonnia behind her.
When they were both inside, she reached into her bag a second time, to retrieve her wand. Muttering a quick spell, the candles she had in the shop were lit. "Ah, that's better," she said. Despite the bright moon, the shop was still dark, and she was not lucky enough to have been able to see in the dark the way Mazonnia was. Now that there was more illumination, she was able to look into his eyes once more, only for a moment, for fear that she may decide to simply look into his eyes all night.
She made her way towards her Rosemary piano. Sitting atop of it were a stack of sheet music, the first sheet being the song she had written that he had inspired. She tucked it at the bottom of the pile, in case he were to look at them and see it. She wanted to keep it a surprise. The next sheet was the one she was looking for, the one he had sent her. Looking back towards him, she asked, "Would you care for a nightcap?" She had almost asked if he would care for some food, but realised that it could probably have been taken the wrong way, so she didn't.
Mazonnia being used to such forms of travelling, it was always a cross between enjoyable and very dull except this time it was a thrill just to be holding Lucrezia's hand, the idea of someone looking after him even if it was short-lived or if there was no danger or risk it still had its own effect on Mazonnia.
As he entered the room the candles became lit, creating a scented aroma of light and smell within which already seemed to comfort Mazonnia who could smell a small essence of Rosemary, his lips felt dry and gained a small thirst, not for blood, it was an almost indifferent-tolerance to not letting himself be driven by the thirst for blood and becoming a feral-beast by finding something else which could lubricate his mouth, be it produce or beverage, he'd refrain for as long as possible to not seem rude by asking the moment they had entered through the door.
He began to focus on that enchanting piano of hers and how sweetly he knew Lucrezia could play it, if he was a child he would jump with hype and cry-out with joy but his eyes could show everything he felt easily enough. As the lids of his eyes drew closer to one another till they were half-shut, he stared at the piano almost-expressionless if it weren't for his eyes being as they were. Lucrezia had just rearranged the stack of sheet music, moving one sheet to the bottom and looked ready to use the one left on the top of which she then asked Mazonnia a question.
"A palm-sized tomato, if you have one..." Mazonnia responded softly, as if enchanted by a cheering charm.
Lucrezia nodded, and moved towards the door connecting shop and home. She felt silly, but part of her didn't want to leave the shop, because he was there. That didn't bode well for her, since he would have to leave eventually, and she would have to be parted from him, but she knew already that it would be more difficult than she had imagined. She opened the door, the rosemary plant that Mazonnia had given her still clutched safely in one hand. She would set it to one side in the kitchen, ready for planting tomorrow.
She made her way quickly through the lower part of the house to the kitchen at the back. Placing the rosamary on the table, she made her way into the larder. She did not remember if she had any tomatoes however, which could have proved to be a problem, had she not seen the small basket with them in, tucked behind one full of potatoes. She had been curious as to why he had asked for a tomato, but that curiosity had been explained by her brain for her. The red colouring of the tomato would surely remind him of blood, she thought.
After picking the ripest tomato, which would surely be the best tasting one, she began to return to the shop, but something told her to take care of the rosemary seedling first. Setting the tomato down, she took a teacup from the cupboard and put the seedling in. It was an interesting choice for a plant pot, but she thought it would look rather sweet. She was grateful she still had her wand in hand, so that it was easy for her to mutter the correct spell to fill the cup with soil, before giving it a little water.
After he had watched Lucrezia leave the room, he turned to face the piano and felt that carving of the rosemary once again, he glanced at the sheet music and picked up one of the sheets he had sent to Lucrezia and read it through letting a small 'hum' eject from his mouth as he played part of the tune in his head, as he went to put it back something caught his eye at the bottom of the stack, tilting his head he could make out what appeared to be an oddly shaped '3' or what might possibly could be the top of an 'M'.
Mazonnia was not one to follow his curiosity blindly, if it was indeed an 'M' then he just had to check to see if it was something to do with him, if that was actually the reason it was hidden to which Mazonnia foolishly asked himself "Why would she hide it?"
Not even giving himself a response he very carefully pulled out the piece of music and upon first glance he saw it up at the top 'La Sonata di Mazonnia', he sat down on the stool with his arms trembling ever so slightly with how much happiness this filled him with as he read the music.
He should have put it away but he didn't want to give a non-genuine reaction and though regrettably he should have never picked it up, he put it before him and thought the only way he could show how much he appreciated the music, which looked hand-written similar to Lucrezia's own writings. Mazonnia stared at the music and began to press his fingers down onto the keys, he gave way to a smile as he both read and played the music, he let out everything he had gained upon his reaction to picking it up.
Lucrezia had fiddled with the plant enough, and now it was time to get back to Mazonnia with his fruit. She had intended to fix herself a glass of something, but she was sure that she would be fine without anything. As she reached the door between the kitchen and the parlour, she could hear Mazonnia's song in her head. She found herself humming along, but, as she neared the shop door, she realised that someone was playing it. She picked up speed, praying that she was just imagining it.
She stopped at the door, and her worst fears were confirmed. There was Mazonnia, playing the song she had written for him, on her piano. Tears started to form in Lucrezia's eyes, but she couldn't seem to work out if they were tears of sadness, or of happiness. Of course she was upset, her surprise for him was ruined, and she wouldn't be able to give it to him, but he played it beautifully. Better than she had imagined it, or even played it. She stood there for a moment, not wanting to disturb him from his playing, before she stepped towards the counter. She set the tomato down, and moved closer to him, not close enough to disturb him, but close enough that she could see his expression more clearly, and what she saw made her heart swell. The look on Mazonnia's face was one of bliss, and it made her tears fall faster than they had been.
Mazonnia played and played until the last note had been struck, aware of Lucrezia's dawning presence but unable to have a correct prediction of her expression, after he'd finished he turned to face Lucrezia with a big smile on his face and a warm glow in his eyes and before he could open his mouth wide enough to say anything he froze exactly how he was at this poor, upset and weeping angel of a woman, it was as if all the joy had gone into that sheet music and left her with nothing.
"Thank you" Mazonnia said without hesitation, happiness in his voice as he stood to hold Lucrezia in a tight embrace, the heat within the room having been absorbed into his clothing though it was nothing compared to Lucrezia's warmth, Mazonnia would have hoped that he would give off a somewhat human-like amount of warmth.
Lucrezia couldn't help but feel upet. She was happy that he had liked it so much, but she only had one thing she could have given him, and now, she had nothing. She knew she should be pleased that he took great pleasure from something she had written him, but she had wanted the first time he heard it to be when she played it to him. Now, she had nothing to give him, would not be able to watch his face as she told him that it was because of him that she wrote the song, that he had become her muse. It was only one gift, but to Lucrezia, it was the most important one she could give, minus her heart.
He pulled her into his arms, and Lucrezia wrapped her arms around him. She heard him thank her, and she could no longer stay quiet. "You...you weren't supposed to hear it that way....I was going to play it to you, but now I can't......The only gift I could give you, and now it's gone..." she trailed off, still crying. She rested her head against his chest, her tear-stained cheek pressed against the soft fabric. She would feel guilty later, for getting his clothes wet, but she didn't know what else to do, apart from get closer to him.
"You, are a gift. Lucrezia..." Mentioned in a sympathetic tone, tilting her head up slowly with the side of his hooked finger. "...And you keep on giving, whether you realise it or not." He finalised, gazing into her soggy eyes and still finding the beauty behind the flood of tears, he wiped her cheeks with the back of his fingerless glove to dry the tears away of which he leaned in and tenderly pecked her lips, the kiss being a brief three seconds before Mazonnia had pulled away, hugging Lucrezia once more as he stroked his hand down the back of her head, through her hair, brushing against her neck until it slowly grounded to a halt at her waist.
The room felt like it had fallen into a dead-silence as Lucrezia weeped, he would know that if in the future something similar were to occur he would simply avoid such an act of selfishness like he had done tonight.
Lucrezia wanted to stop crying, but she wasn't really sure how to do that. She was worried that she was making him uncomfortable. It had been her own fault, after all. If she'd have simply left the sheets where they were, Mazonnia wouldn't have gone to look for what she had tried to hide. Now she was making him feel guilty for doing what anyone would have done. She felt her head tilt upwards as Mazonnia lifted it with his finger, and she let her eyes meet his. She knew he didn't mean to upset her by playing it, and she was angry over nothing. Mazonnia's words didn't really make sense to her, she wasn't a gift, but when he wiped away her tears, and kissed her softly for a moment, she didn't care about what she thought. What mattered was Mazonnia believed what he said about her.
She tried to stop herself again, this time doing a better job, helped, in part, by the calming feeling that passed through her as Mazonnia's hand ran down her back. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have gotten so upset, but you played it so beautifully...better that I have ever played it...." she paused, and kissed his cheek tenderly. "This started to take form in my mind just before you left my shop the first time you were here," she told him. Since he was getting his gift now, he may as well have it all. "And it wouldn't let me go until it was finished.....Did you truly like it?" she asked him softly. "I can make any changes you want....I wanted it to remind you of me, so whenever it comes to mind, I come to mind," she said, blushing. What had become of her? In all her life she hardly ever blushed, and Mazonnia could do it over and over again.
As Lucrezia apologised Mazonnia tightened his grip around her thinking there was nothing else he could right now having already done enough as it was and anything more could easily make this worse, he remained silent. Not being long till she sobbingly informed Mazonnia what had inspired her to write the piece in the first place, it was at that point he could fully understand why she had dropped into such a depressive state. Mazonnia had single-handedly brought Lucrezia to a positive high earliier on only to unintentionally obliterate it in one quick move, desperately holding onto Lucrezia afraid that she'd run away.
She asked for his opinion on the song, Mazonnia almost answered too quickly but learning from his mistakes of responding too quickly he chose to wait, he was glad he had, within that moment he had gained knowledge for the intention of the piece of which he found very sweet, Mazonnia found himself uplifted as he knew that not only would his next response not cause misery but it would hopefully raise Lucrezia's spirit.
"It was beautiful..." He proclaimed, his voice trembled with relief. "Its perfect as is, I would never hope to forget about you Lucrezia and I shan't, be it the sound of this song; the smell of Rosemary; a painting of those crystal eyes, they have all been bestowed in my memory."
His soft-Romanian accent giving what he said a more genuine touch.
Staring into her eyes; the song played in his head; the scent of rosemary filled the air, Mazonnia was over-joyed, hoping Lucrezia cheery enough for her to play one the songs he had been sent to her, he kissed her forehead and then gazed into her eyes again. "Could you play one of the songs I sent to you?" He asked childishly.
His words threatened to bring her to tears once more, but she held them back, instead focusing on his eyes, willing herself not to make more of a spectacle of herself tonight. She took a deep breath, before trying to reply. "You always know what to say," she said quietly, after a moment of gathering her thoughts. "I cause a scene, and it doesn't phase you, you have a way of making me feel like the only person in the world when you so much as look at me....and I feel like I have to tell you everything, even things that I shouldn't say, because they aren't proper....What did you do to me?" It was not a negative question, and she hoped he would not take it as such, but she simply could not understand how she could go from a strong-willed, level-headed woman, to one who became hysterical at the slightest thing, blushing and crying at the most inconvenient of moments.
She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips against her forehead, and even managed a giggle when he asked her to play for him. "Your wish is my command sir," she said with a smile. She broke away from him, albeit a little unwillingly, and moved back towards the counter, picking up the tomato. "But first," she said, pressing it into his hand, "I brought you your tomato." She made her way over to the piano, partly to allow him to eat his tomato, and partly to ready herself to play. She took the sheet music from the pile, setting herself up to play. She took the small clip from her hair, that had been holding some of it back, letting it fall down around her face, and removed her shawl, resting them both on top of the piano. Next, she slipped the small purse from her shoulder, and this joined the clip and her shawl. She set herself down on the stool, and turned around to look at Mazonnia.
Being left with a tomato in his hand he patiently waited for Lucrezia to begin, moving over to lean against the counter he would wait till after she had played a tune before he would eat his tomato, although the thirst was beginning to become more unbearable to take as he stared at the tomato more and more, jumping with the thought that it wouldn't matter what time he chose to eat the tomato nothing would change. It was only till Lucrezia turned around did he finally sink his fangs into the tomato, penetrating its skin as a few of the tomato juices streamed out from where the fangs pierced the outer-layer of its skin. Mazonnia drained a fair amount of the tomato's juices at a rapid rate forcing the whole tomato collapse in on itself periodically, releasing his fangs from the tomato as it regained its original shape.
Realising Lucrezia was waiting on him and had turned around to face him, he couldn't help but gain some insight on what she was thinking, it was the way she stared at him, shrugging it from his mind he nodded at Lucrezia to start playing. Mazonnia took his time by taking small bites out of the tomato as he listened to the melodies Lucrezia played for him.
Part of Lucrezia wished that she hadn't turned around at all, whilst another part of her was completely intrigued, and another part of her found the whole sight rather arousing. She found that all three parts of her were imagining the same thing. The part that wished she had never turned around was imagining that he would have a temporary mind lapse, and throw the tomato away in disgust, pinning her to the piano as he sunk his teeth into her throat. The intrigued part of her was imagining what exactly that would feel like, and the aroused part of her was hoping for it. All in all, she found she could not take her eyes from him.
It took her a few moments to realise that he had nodded at her, thinking that she was waiting for him. Slowly, she turned back to the piano, and, eyes never leaving the sheets, began to play. Her fingers caressed each key lovingly, as if they were lovers that Lucrezia wished to be close to once more. She felt her body swaying to the music, and she let her eyes slip closed, losing herself a note at a time. There were not many pieces that she played, or ever wrote, that allowed her to slip away from herself, but Moonlight Sonata was one of them. Another piece was, of course, Mazonnia's song.
Mazonnia felt one with the music, one with Lucrezia, he put down the half-eaten tomato and began to approach her, leaning behind Lucrezia as his hands gently fell atop of hers as if he was guiding her fingers against the keys, his chest pressed against her back and his head lingered to the side her head, he couldn't help but be attracted to how she swayed with the music, her soft hair brushing against his face.
Moonlight reflecting from metallic objects in the room which outlined the edge of his face, his hands caressing the backs of her hands as he became lost with the music as well, imagining that each key was a part of him and her finger tips were softly gracing his cold skin, playing alongside Lucrezia until the final key was struck.
Lucrezia played on, not noticing that her hands were now being covered by Mazonnia's, nor that he stood behind her, her back resting on his body, nor that his face was mere inches from the side of her head. She had let her mind wander far away from her, to a place she could only go when she played. It was a place where whatever she wanted to happen, would happen, and nothing she wanted would go wrong.
The place that she went to changed everytime she was there. Sometimes, everything was surrounded in a white light, other times it was a beautiful cottage in the country, or sometimes, as it was now, she was by the seaside, with Mazonnia, who she knew couldn't be out in the sun. They had laid out a picnic, and they were simply basking in the glory of the sun, together, playing tricks on one another and generally having a wonderful time. Lucrezia wished that they truly could do that, but she knew they could not.
It was towards the end of the piece, when Lucrezia was coming out of her happy place, that she opened her eyes, Mazonnia's hands on hers, the firm line of his body against her back. She leaned back into him a little as she played the final notes, and was struck with how romantic the gestures were. At the first possible oppurtunity, she turned her body a little in order to press her lips against his, her hands turning so that she could entwine her fingers with his. The need to be touching him was rising once more, an impact of his romantic gestures no doubt, but Lucrezia had no issue in obliging that need.
The last note was struck and though Mazonnia simply turned to smile at Lucrezia it was obvious she had other plans as the moment his face was turned her lips met with his, he was thrown off guard and the suddenness of it all made Mazonnia lose his balance and within that moment he made the quick decision to embrace Lucrezia, for a split second it was another sweet-hug they both enjoyed but soon-after Mazonnia was falling to the floor and bringing Lucrezia with him.
His back struck the floorboards of the shop, it was sudden, atop and in-front of him was Lucrezia and with his arms still wrapped around her he held his hand on the back of her head and leaned up to press his lips against hers, his tongue softly stroking against her lips, her hair acting as a veil, privacy within privacy. Mazonnia had never felt such a passion quite like this before, not ever within his 16 years of losing his memory at least, he was treating it like he was a young teenager.
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