sylviedevereux: (small smile)
sylviedevereux ([personal profile] sylviedevereux) wrote 2014-10-06 04:18 am (UTC)

She can't help but notice the hesitation in his voice when he says husband, and she smiles. "Relax, I'm French." She figures that explains enough. She's not one to judge, especially with the way she can feel the affection in his words as he talks about him. She doesn't want to hold Joel up more than he wants to be, but she's enjoying talking to him. It's relaxing after she's tied herself in knots for days trying to work out what to say when she got here.

She'd made the decision to come to Siren Cove a month ago, and it had taken a few weeks of deep breathing and frantic packing to be able to get here. Now that she is, there's something comforting about standing in jeans and a sweater in a grocery aisle chatting to a man who seems more welcoming than she had expected from a small town.

"That's great. Any chance he knows of a good music store?" She doesn't have the money to reacquire her possessions, but it might be nice to go and find a place, to run her fingers over the instruments and feel like she's home again. Maybe they'll even let her play in the store. She hasn't touched a piano in years; since her own was sold, she hasn't been able to summon the money or the courage to buy a new one. She still has her keyboard, the small one Shea had bought her when she was in one of her lower moods. She's carried it with her here, and it means the world to her because he bought it, because he knew exactly what she needed, but she still longs for the real thing again.

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