[He can hear it. Even through the wrong notes and the misses, he can still hear James, and it's so uncanny it makes his skin crawl a little--and yet he can't get enough of it; he doesn't want to stop hearing it, even though it hurts, even though he knows that it's a weakness, taking refuge--however brief--in these notes, and he shoves the heel of his hand against his eye and presses, hard.
When she finishes, with those last notes hanging on the air, he still doesn't say anything, for a moment. And then he laughs, once, short and bitter. It snaps in the air. It sounds wrong, after all of that. Good and bold and happy and a little angry, but always back to happiness in the end. Brave and clever. That's James.]
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When she finishes, with those last notes hanging on the air, he still doesn't say anything, for a moment. And then he laughs, once, short and bitter. It snaps in the air. It sounds wrong, after all of that. Good and bold and happy and a little angry, but always back to happiness in the end. Brave and clever. That's James.]
Yeah. Good.