Page 38 of Falls From Grace
“Can we… eat?” Brynn replied, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m starving.”
Savannah stared at her, like she couldn’t believe the mundanity of Brynn’s needs at a time like this.
“Of course,” she said after a beat. “You’re right. We need fuel.”
Brynn groaned.
“You’re planning to work me hard all night, aren’t you?” She mentally kicked herself a she replayed the sentence back.
Savannah’s eyes widened slightly.
“I sure am,” she recovered, heading over toward the kitchen. “I guess I better hope that if I feed you first, I won’t wear you out too fast.” This she threw with a smile over her shoulder, and Brynn tried extremely hard not to blush. She drifted over to take a seat at the kitchen island, watching as Savannah pulled things out of the fridge.
After eating big bowls of Luis’s thick rustic tomato soup with oven-warmed bread rolls in more or less companionable silence - both women deep in their own thoughts - Savannah cleared the table and cocked her head back toward the living room.
“Are you coming?” she asked when Brynn stayed where she was. Brynn turned sideways in her chair to face her.
“I don’t really know what you want from me,” she admitted.
“I want you to write with me,” Savannah told her, as if it should be obvious. “We just made something like… magic.” She puffed her fingers out like an explosion. “I want to know what else we can do.”
“No pressure then,” said Brynn, wincing. “I don’t really even know how to start.”
“Then let’s figure it out together,” Savannah came over and took her hand, pulling her up from her seat. Brynn let herself be dragged back to the piano.
The hours seemed to disappear. Savannah gave her starters, little things she’d been percolating and Brynn felt out sounds on the keys. Savannah sang the beginnings of lyrics in her ridiculous sexy voice and Brynn let herself feel it, through and through, until she found a response to sing, sometimes teasing, sometimes aching, and watched when her input landed. Savannah’s eyes would sometimes widen, sometimes slide closed, a little breath escaping her. Brynn was already worried she was getting a little bit addicted to making Savannah look that way.
Shortly before midnight, she remembered to text Noah so he didn’t send out a search party. Looking at her phone she saw a couple of messages, checking in. Feeling oddly guilty, she fired off a reply.
Staying late at Savannah’s, all good x
Almost immediately, he responded.
Is that a good idea?
She frowned.
It’s not like that. I’m working.
The three little dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared.
Be careful x
“Is that Noah?” Savannah asked her, from where she’d curled into an armchair, sipping tea, her ever-present notebook on her lap.
“Yeah. Just making sure I’m still alive.”
“He’s getting a piece of my mind in the morning.” Savannah frowned. “He never once mentioned how talented you are.”
“Savannah.” Brynn dropped her phone and slumped into the other armchair. “You’re the only person who thinks this way. I’m actually kind of worried you’re having some kind of psychotic break.”
Savannah rolled her eyes.
“So you keep saying. What’s actually happening is that I get to hear you first, but the whole world is going to collectively lose their minds about you.”
“So you keep saying.” Brynn wasn’t about to entertain Savannah’s uncharacteristic nonsense speak.
“What does Noah say? I mean, how has he not told you about your voice?”
