The air is pregnant with the scent of tobacco and jasmine. As is the custom at this hour, the cafe is filled with the crush of young Spaniards. A door...creaks open and admits a young woman. With quiet determination she enters and makes her way to the wall furthest from the stage. Her skirt whispers against the chair as she seats herself. No one takes note of her passing save for the wisp of her perfume. She has been here before. She comes every night to hear him play. She waits. Soon her heart. Emily smiled up at me as I reached her and handed the book over. As I did I dropped the book. It landed on the desk with a bang and (as I was hoping) we both reached for it. I managed to place a hand firmly onto hers. Time began to slow until it almost froze. I watched with sadistic glee as a spider web of purple lines shot into Emily's hand and spread up and under her tank top. When it reached her blue eyes and turned them a shade of purple I released my grip. Stop. I commanded in my mind.. More

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