[They were on a different level now, and from Kit's current position he was forced to tilt his head up to gaze at Vincent. A deliberate move on his part, but then...he seldom did anything at all without purpose.]
I suppose that proves my point, doesn't it? Music isn't something I know a lot about.
[It wasn't a lie, of course. For all that he'd read a great deal while he'd been at the juvenile detention center, his target interests had been very specific and hadn't included music. He enjoyed listening to different melodies and compositions, but if he was honest, there was nothing quite like the calm clarity that only silence could provide. That, or the "music" of the world around him. The ambiance of people and traffic, animals, and even the inner workings of his own body. His lungs ushering air into and from his chest, heart pumping blood, and a pulse like an ever steady rhythm in his own ears, one that beat according to his conduction...
Still staring up at the other boy, gaze unwavering, Kit continued.]
I wonder, though...if they aren't very smart, wouldn't they be the perfect audience to receive personal lyrics? Like hiding the truth within plain sight.
[It was both an opportunity to bask in one's superiority, as well as a way to contend with the risks of being discovered, a challenge that could scarcely be turned away by someone so enticed by peril as Vincent was.]
no subject
I suppose that proves my point, doesn't it? Music isn't something I know a lot about.
[It wasn't a lie, of course. For all that he'd read a great deal while he'd been at the juvenile detention center, his target interests had been very specific and hadn't included music. He enjoyed listening to different melodies and compositions, but if he was honest, there was nothing quite like the calm clarity that only silence could provide. That, or the "music" of the world around him. The ambiance of people and traffic, animals, and even the inner workings of his own body. His lungs ushering air into and from his chest, heart pumping blood, and a pulse like an ever steady rhythm in his own ears, one that beat according to his conduction...
Still staring up at the other boy, gaze unwavering, Kit continued.]
I wonder, though...if they aren't very smart, wouldn't they be the perfect audience to receive personal lyrics? Like hiding the truth within plain sight.
[It was both an opportunity to bask in one's superiority, as well as a way to contend with the risks of being discovered, a challenge that could scarcely be turned away by someone so enticed by peril as Vincent was.]