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tracciavo with the eyes, the flutter of his bow in your hair in order to understand where it would take me. Kerys he descended the stairs to reach the floor below, where you could still the faint flow of the notes.
It was only when I saw her out of the building that I reached. There silence was reigning sovereign, along with the light breeze of autumn swept through the remnants of a summer that had just finished.
Immediately, I went back to the memory at the meeting that we had in the library. Even now, as in that moment, she kept her eyes tight, and clung to fatigue on the railing of the porch. The slender legs
they trembled in their boots and pushed one of his hands up against the ear, such as would plug it and protect it from an immense din: but that night clear, not even the ghosts made noise. The music no longer felt
, and there was nobody in the range of meters. The university was partially lit, but the avenue in front of the building was completely empty.
I felt the sobs, but they were not the side-effect of a cry, but the inability to keep the inside of the breaths maybe too deep. He had to have heard me, because he straightened up, returning in a few seconds the mistress in itself.
"Miss Westwood" I called her, going slowly up the steps to reach the halfway of the stairs, with the fear of seeming intrusive.
"Is everything going well?" I asked.
My voice seemed to help her to return to the regular breathing, as if he had interrupted the flow of his discomfort making her return to reality. The hand that held pressed against the ear he grabbed one of the locks of hair was loose on his face, and brought it back, trembling. Then left the grip on the railing and decided to turn around to focus his attention on me.
His eyes were glossy from the effort, but there was no trace of tears. Her lipstick burgundy was intact, but his expression was not at all a clue. It was obvious the upheaval between his eyebrows frowning and skin impallidita. Blond hair fluttered in the wind.
"I told you," he muttered and then clear his throat a moment later. "Not I like to be called so."
As much as I wanted him to call her by name, but it was a double-edged sword: it could push her away or bring it closer. I had to wait for the right moment before you taste the taste of those five letters.
I took a step towards her, but without intruding into your living space. "Go,"
is everything ok?", I asked her again.
You let it fall back with the side against the railing, marble, and letting go slowly up the steps to sit in a position that faticai to ignore. One of his legs remained spread, while the other was bent. The her skirt had risen up dramatically along the thighs.
I stare at it from the top, with hands tucked into the pockets of pants and a frown curious on the face. She was dressed in despair. She brought her hands through to keep your head and tried to breathe deeply.
I sat down at my turn on the step,
but as he looked in front of me. Because if I looked to the side, I would have ine
of her i
"She knows that melody?" he returned with his hands tight on her lap and raised her head to look at me; then I turned my face to welcome that conta visual, trattenendomi from going over it with my own eyes. I gave him the time to respond. "Is a song by Tchaikovsky, taken from the The lake of the swans".
"Is this that has shaken so much?" I put the forearms on his knees.
"No..." the tone of his voice was so low that it was difficult for me to hear it. "Is that me and the classical music lately, we don't go much agree with."
"I Understand..." Nodded, even if, in reality, I couldn't make sense of those words, while I went back to look in front of me, on my shoes
, and then on the road spooky. Sinister and silent, the streets of the college were the backdrop to the conversation.
I wish I could say I knew what I was doing, that approach her in that way was part of my job. But it was not so.
I went back to look at her. Kerys had the taste of the darkness. At that distance close I could feel his sweetness and mix in the dark. A dark so penetrating as to fluirle in and out like an aura: she wore as she wears lingerie, without shame, and with intimacy. And even if it was a weight on her did not seem to burden. The fit to the brush.
"What is she, exactly, dr. Crain?" His question came hesitant and fearful of the silence that was created between my thoughts and his.
For a moment I wondered what the hell I was doing. Sitting on the steps of that building in a university campus, next to a girl who was eleven years younger than me, and that if I had looked down on her legs, I would have remembered that it was too time scopavo, without even touching me. Really, what I
was doing?
I was not a doctor of any kind. There was a practice of precise for me, I needed to do was turn on the recorder, open the zip bag black and armarmi scalpel. Not scavavo in the chests, there I looked up inside the bones. Was not for me to observe the nature of the organs bloodless.
However, I had always had a knack invaluable for the minds corrupted, this was true. It was not a case if I was sitting next to her, in the midst of a September night, to ask me how many details it was right to reveal it, and all those who, instead it was better to omit or disguise.
Let me tell you this, Kerys Westwood... it is better that you not know.
"Help the detective with the case of a dead boy, but we are not particularly good point."
"I understand..." he muttered almost disappointed, with lowered eyes, tired. It was obvious that she wanted to hear another answer.
To it was my job. The I analyzed and I didn't take much to understand why his behavior: I couldn't reveal that I was there for her, but I was certain that this was what he wanted to hear.
"You and Alex were friends?" I asked her then. "Any information you have could return to profit".
"I have already told everything to the police," he replied. Changed his position, mimicking my affiancandomi legs were now within sight
decent for my eyes. He regained his composure and covered her thighs with his forearms. "He and I were great friends before the summer though. I and the River, the captain of the football team, we were together and the two of them were best friends. Therefore, he always comes out with our group, we went to parties and sometimes we were studying together."
"And after the summer?"
She seemed hesitant, then looked up again on me. "I and the River , we left, and I have not heard from Alex. The guys are very supportive of each other and when a
, there is a need."
I
didn't want to talk with her about the kidnapping that evening: I already have many of the details,