The effect his words had on her was immediate. She beamed at him, her face as soft and radiant with light comparable to the moon for which her elven race was named. While her other smiles had been small and delicate tamed ones, this one that escaped her was as wild as bird taking to the skies for freedom after years of captivity.
"I think you mistake me for someone with sense," she laughed. "Some might say I'm a hopeless romantic, but I prefer the term 'hopeful' romantic. Besides," she flushed with pleasure as she gave a bashful shrug, "if things go poorly, I have something to write about."
The'ara thought for a moment, pursing her lips as she recollected the song in question. Yes, she knew this song well. This time when she sang the lyrics, it seemed to her she was singing just to Chezlar. It was a wish, a fantasy, nothing more. For this one song, she can let him hold her heart in his hand. And afterward, it would simply fade--like all musical notes do. And perhaps forgotten. But to her, that was what made music and love both so dear. It was fleeting and fragile, but oh, for that one moment, it would be perfection.
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