There was no better way to spend a lazy afternoon, Evan was sure.Â
With nothing left to do for the day other than grab a cheap lunch somewhere in the city, the musician had figured heâd use the time to get a bit of fresh air and sit around at the park, guitar in hand and Ringo, the amazingly tiny terrier pup, at his side.Â
Sitting with his back against the trunk of a tree, Evan lazily strummed the instrument as he kept an eye on the small dog who was perfectly content to just sniff around in the grass nearby. It was nice. Not too many people about, save for parents and playing children, and the people who used the park as a shortcut to wherever they needed to go.Â
His music probably wasnât too much of a nuisance, though he couldnât help but fret a little as he noticed someone approaching him head-on. Hand covering the strings to silence all noise, Evan offered a meek smile as the woman drew nearer.
âSorry, was the noise botherinâ ya? Iâm leavinâ now anyway, soââ
He wasnât. But if he was drawing too much attention to himself, then heâd rather scarper sooner rather than later.
Ashe-Lin rarely took days off from the police force, since she was only new to the field after all and she was eager to show her persistence for the law. However, today was a must. It was the anniversary of her father's death, someone who trained her character and defined how she acted despite the flaws he held.Â
She slung a guitar case over her shoulder, feeling the shoulder strap echo the memories it withheld. The strips on the strap were worn over time, from her father rubbing it with his hand just as she was oh so long ago, feeling it between her fingers again made the sight of her father seeming mere days ago.
She walked along the park grounds as Yazho kept by her, with the leash not having to strain. Yazho was practically attached to Ashe-Linâs ankle to the point of her practically tripping over the tall wad of white fur by her legs. The deeper they continued into the park, the more the familiar plucking sound of strings became noticeable. The more they did, the more Ashe-lin thought she was hallucinating.
The path overcame a hill overgrown with trees, and there she saw a bench with a person sitting upon it. A person with a guitar, the place where the sound of music was originated from. Ashe-Linâs eyes focused right onto that acoustic guitar, realizing that music wasnât just in her head.Â
She practically ignored the path now and skipped over the grass to come closer, as the music pulled her in like a string attached to her waist, or like a puppeteer made her move without her command. She reached the man, slowing her steps as she came close.Â
By this time the music stopped, and they now were looking at each other, eyes matching. Her eyes then glued to the guitar, it seemed average- no special tuning or special design. It, however, showed passion, via the look of ware on the wood where strings were plucked and played. It soothed her heart to see someone who was passionate about it, maybe even more than she was to her guitar.Â
The voice broke her out of focus, and her gaze redirected to the person sitting there. They looked to her in confusion, and it was understandable since she popped out of nowhere just to stare at a guitar. She chuckled, the obvious nervousness echoing out along with it.
âOh no no you werenât bothering me at all!â She smiled, waving her hand as if she was waving that thought away. âI actually was emersed in your playing! I heard you over the hill back there-â She turned her head, patting the black guitar case hanging over her shoulder with her hand.Â
â-I was actually going to go play myself out here, so. it would be hypocritical of me to say you were a bother, no?â
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