Several days had passed since Sapphine and Wyoma last seen Demetrius. His last visit startled Wyoma. He expressed such interest to Sapphine and she wasn’t sure if he was either just following up on her health or growing a liking towards her. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Around the house, Sapphine continued her life with Atrevin flooding her mind and thoughts. She couldn’t keep his face out of her memories. His scent still floated around in their bedroom, laying on the sheets and on his clothes hanging in the wardrobe. His portraits decorated the wallpapers in most of their rooms, hanging on thin nails.

Once Sapphine had walked inside of the library, to find a novel that Wyoma had wanted, and stumbled upon a picture of her love. The photo had dropped from in between the pages of the novel, obviously set as a bookmark. When Sapphine reached down to pick up the photo, her eyes had immediately swelled up with tears, reminiscing of the event that took place in the picture. Although the photo was sepia colored, Sapphine could make out all of the brilliant and bright colors she had seen that day, when the two of them, Atrevin and Sapphine, had first laid eyes on their cottage–their new home. Sapphine had hurriedly stuffed the photo back inside of the book, not wanting to think of old memories, and threw the book to Wyoma who sat in the kitchen, fixing tea.




On the day that Demetrius did return, Sapphine sat before the grand piano, running her fragile fingers along the black and white keys, hesitant about playing. Wyoma sat only a few feet away from her, with her face buried beneath the pages of a new book of interest. The chime inside of their house signaled, and Wyoma, stood from her seat and walked towards the door. She came back, with Demetrius trailing behind her, his eyes wandering everywhere but in front of him--looking at the many articles inside of their home.

Because Sapphine’s back faced the door, she hadn’t noticed he was within the room. She heard the slight cushioning of the chair, as Wyoma took her regular seat, but hadn’t heard the soft footsteps of Demetrius’ shoes approaching behind her; coming closer to her position, and stopping immediately behind her.

With a moment’s hesitance, Sapphine, irregardless of Wyoma’s reading, began to play a musical tune from the grand piano. Her fingers smoothly glided over the keys, playing chords and notes, from octave to octave. The keys played out soft and her body danced on the piano bench to the flow and rhythm of the song. Her treble fingers began playing the highest of notes, as the song started off with hope, but soon, they dramatically fell towards the bass notes, as only one of her hands were left playing the keys. The song ended suddenly and dreadfully–the last note that was played, Sapphine’s finger still rested on the key, staring at it. Her life was a part of the song and the song, was a part of her life.

She continued staring at the key, unaware of Demetrius glancing over her shoulder, staring at the same key she was staring at. When the song ended, Wyoma diverted her eyes from her book, and towards the two; Demetrius’ frame bending over Sapphine’s; Sapphine’s finger still pressed on the key, unaware of his presence.

"Sapphine..." Wyoma broke the silence, wanting to inform her of Demetrius.

Sapphine drew her head around and was surprised to find their guest standing behind her. How close he was!

"D-Demetrius..." Sapphine stammered and shot up from her seat. He had stumbled upon one of her hidden interests. She didn’t want him to know anything about her. Since his last visit, there was so much of her that he found out that she didn’t want him to know.

"You’re pretty good." Demetrius commented on her playing and swivelled on his heel, his eyes watching her move towards a seat of her own, away from him.

"Thank you, I’ve been practicing." She briefly stated head bent, facing the floor. She reached over towards the table, picked up a needle, and began embroidering black roses upon a pillow cloth.

"But you lack with proper finger placement and positioning." Demetrius started and took his seat at the piano bench, sweeping back his coat tail.

"Excuse me?" She was surprised at his new comment. Her fingers stopped embroidering abruptly, and her needle was in the middle of creating a new petal on the rose.

"Your finger positioning is very poor and inadequate. While you’re supposed to have your fingers relaxed over the keys, your fingers are stiff and rigid. You need more practice." His words tore her apart.

How cruel they were!

Her cheeks shone a bright red and she threw the embroidery down. Lifting up the hems of her dress, she walked towards the piano and shoved her hands in front of his face.

"These are the fingers of a woman who has taught herself the piano!" She shouted, making an excuse for her lack in finger positioning.

"You call that your excuse?" He chuckled and turned in his seat. He sat with his back perfectly straight, feet placed firmly on the ground, and began playing the same musical tune Sapphine played. His fingers ran across the keys with better ease, better precision, more accuracy, and moreover, better placement and positioning. His playing overwhelmed her own.

"I’ve only played for three years." Sapphine continued, still making excuses to clear herself from his reproach.

"I’ve only played for two and a half." He spat back.

"But...you’re of a wealthier class! A wealthier rank!" Sapphine felt the tension between the two of them rising. She knew their current argument was a competition. She wanted to prove herself a winner; something that would make herself feel strong in a time still of weakness.

"Of a wealthier class?! How preposterous! Don’t blame my class for your lack of adequacy!" He stood from his seat, standing tall above her. She felt herself standing small in his shadow. She gazed into his eyes, and saw the sharp, piercing look he gave her. Those tantalizing blue eyes! Immediately, she felt a wave of inferiority flush over her, and she shrank back. Wyoma watched the two and sat amazed. Her book lay to her side with the pages open, and spine pointed upwards. She sat with one of her legs folded under the other. Her eyes were wide and soon widened when she witnessed Sapphine walk from the room, and onto the porch–she watched her walk down the porch steps and down the path, leading away from their home.

Wyoma glanced towards Demetrius and saw him still standing, fist balled to his side, teeth gritted, and anger and shame etched on his face. His brown locks covered his face. She watched him and he felt her gaze. A minute passed, with the repeated ticking of the clock disturbing the silence at second intervals. When another minute went by, Demetrius walked out of the room, grabbed his cane, and walked out the door.

The door slammed shut behind him, and she watched as he skipped down the steps and headed down the path, towards Sapphine.