Before Vanya can apologize for his broken heart or comment on the ease of finding a piano, Elio is suggesting her toward the store. She follows with a grateful smile and no hesitation. People like Elio were her saving grace in college: other musicians and musical theatre kids that could see the enthusiasm beneath her terminal shyness. To Vanya, an being outgoing is as gift and she is forever grateful to the people that want to share it.
"Thank you," she says as she ducks through the door. Her heart is pounding. This is one of those moments where she feels wrong in that she feels anything at all. When her heart kicks up, she wants to reach for the pills she doesn't carry. There is great effort in reminding herself that feelings are normal and that not all of them will spew destructive energy out the moment she feels strongly.
All of the energy is coming from Elio right now, anyway and it's far from destructive. Vanya finds she can't say much because she's ducked her head down to curb the force of a big smile that threatens to shoot out of her. Not many people have called her a friend, even if it was just to get her a discount. That he's trying at all makes her feel an immediate sense of loyalty: an equally scary thing.
Time jumps and suddenly she can't remember anything between walking through the door and when the violin landed in her hands. She takes the bow to the strings and it makes a terrible, awful, discordant sound. She winces an apology and makes quick work of tuning it. Once she's satisfied, she settles the thing into her neck. It's well-worn, reshaped from the regular set of the last owner's chin. Big, anxious eyes stare all the way up at Elio. It's like taking a plunge into water of unknown temperature.
The first stroke of the bow is like letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Two, three, four and it's like her fingers never spent a day without this. Her eyes close and the store is gone. Gentle energy ripples out of her, rusting pages of vintage comics and ancient adornments. Since Elio is a pianist, it seems her heart chose a song for both of them: Amy Beach's Violin Sonata, a piece traditionally performed by only a violin and a piano.
She plays a couple dozen more bars than she means to before she opens her eyes, glancing between the men before her gaze drops all the way down. She can tell she's displaced some of the merchandise with her powers, but there is no damage done. She hopes the store owner sees it that way. If he doesn't she will pay whatever she has to. These last few moments have made her whole again.
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"Thank you," she says as she ducks through the door. Her heart is pounding. This is one of those moments where she feels wrong in that she feels anything at all. When her heart kicks up, she wants to reach for the pills she doesn't carry. There is great effort in reminding herself that feelings are normal and that not all of them will spew destructive energy out the moment she feels strongly.
All of the energy is coming from Elio right now, anyway and it's far from destructive. Vanya finds she can't say much because she's ducked her head down to curb the force of a big smile that threatens to shoot out of her. Not many people have called her a friend, even if it was just to get her a discount. That he's trying at all makes her feel an immediate sense of loyalty: an equally scary thing.
Time jumps and suddenly she can't remember anything between walking through the door and when the violin landed in her hands. She takes the bow to the strings and it makes a terrible, awful, discordant sound. She winces an apology and makes quick work of tuning it. Once she's satisfied, she settles the thing into her neck. It's well-worn, reshaped from the regular set of the last owner's chin. Big, anxious eyes stare all the way up at Elio. It's like taking a plunge into water of unknown temperature.
The first stroke of the bow is like letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Two, three, four and it's like her fingers never spent a day without this. Her eyes close and the store is gone. Gentle energy ripples out of her, rusting pages of vintage comics and ancient adornments. Since Elio is a pianist, it seems her heart chose a song for both of them: Amy Beach's Violin Sonata, a piece traditionally performed by only a violin and a piano.
She plays a couple dozen more bars than she means to before she opens her eyes, glancing between the men before her gaze drops all the way down. She can tell she's displaced some of the merchandise with her powers, but there is no damage done. She hopes the store owner sees it that way. If he doesn't she will pay whatever she has to. These last few moments have made her whole again.