Yohan's musical talent was undeniable; a cello prodigy and his ability to write songs on the fly was nothing to sneeze at either, but it was his singing voice--only a few people knew he could actually sing--that drew her to him. A richly layered tenor, his voice conveyed emotion like no singer she had ever known. From the golden gleam of joy, to the deadly sting of heartache, to simmering bitterness, the explosion of rage, and the ecstasy of grief.
Medea settled down on her usual cushion, closed her eyes and listened as he played and sang his newest song. Listening to his voice, one would be reminded that music was, and still is, an act of worship. That from ancient times to the present, people raise their voices to the heavens in prayer, in hope and in love.
Yes, he was that good.
She often wondered why he had never accepted any offer for a singing album, he seemed satisfied with making music with his cello, playing at intimate yet high-end venues (and making obscene amounts of money as he does) and simply puttering around in his small makeshift studio by himself. In the dark. Like always.
She could tell that he loved singing, it was obvious from the way his voice blended into the air, how his face shifted into an expression of delight that she would never understand, from the way his mouth formed the words; as if words and melody existed only for him to mold and wield and shape to his will.
Maybe that was why, she thought. He loved singing so much that he didn't want to share it with the rest of the world. That he wanted this one love for himself.
And for her, of course.
It was selfish of her but she couldn't deny that she was pleased with how he kept his ability to sing to himself, limiting the knowledge to her and a few other people. She cherished moments like this, where she could sit with him in the dark and just listen. To let the images inside her head, images that blossomed inside her mind because of his music, and be quiet, be still. At peace.
Sometimes, in her darker days, she thought that it was the only thing that kept her sane.
Copyright © 2013 by D.F. Jules
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