Sentiment

He didn’t need to say that he loved her. She knew. He didn’t stare at her adoringly whenever they shared a room. He didn’t shower her with compliments and buy her flowers. He rarely attempted to get on her good side.

But when he sat at the piano or held a violin, when his rich, textured voice sang everything he didn’t say, she knew. She sensed the greed within him. He was also possessive – of every experience he had with her. He was greedy for more time, more words and more emotions. And he collected and bottled them, not letting go of a single one.

So when they were reborn in his songs, and when he sang them long after, any lingering regrets would dissipate into the night.