“I couldn't think of anything to say. I was idiotically entranced by the way he said "Grace." The tone of it. The way his lips formed the vowels. The timbre of his voice stuck in my head like music.”

“Is there anything I can say to convince you to stay out of this?” he pleaded, his voice taking on a softer tone. I shook my head. “Of course not.” “I didn’t think so,” he said miserably.”

“He stuck the pencil over his ear, looking unconvinced. "Mmm. What position would you be the most comfortable for you?"I couldn't say aloud the answers that popped into my head at that question, but the flush that spread across my face like wildfire gave me away. He caught his lower lip in his teeth, and I was sure it was to contain a laugh. Most comfortable position? What about with my head stuck under a pillow?”

“I winced and Caleb stuck his head inside the door. "Everything alright in here?""Yes, prince," my guard said sarcastically as he crossed his arms in the corner. "A needle stick isn't supposed to feel like cherries in springtime."I snorted a laugh. Caleb raised his eyebrow at me with a twist of his lips.”

“How did you know to turn back?" I said.With his head still down, he said, "I waited for you.""But its a race. Why did you wait for me?"He lifted his head so that his eyes met mine. "I always wait for you." He took a deep breath, my ankle still in his hands. "I'm always waiting for you."In an embarrassingly breathless voice that didn't sound like my own, I said, "Because I'm so slow?"He smiled. "Yes. But not in the way that you think.”

“What do I sound like?" I asked, more breathily than I intended. God, so predictable.He considered his answer for a moment before he gave it. "Dissonant," he said finally."Meaning?"Another long pause. "Unstable."Hmm.He shook his head. "Not the way you're thinking," he said, the shadow of a smile on his lips. "In music, consonant chords are points of arrival. Rest. There's no tension," he tried to explain. "Most pop music hooks are consonant, which is why most people like them. They're catchy but interchangeable. Boring. Dissonant intervals, however, are full of tension," he said, holding my gaze. "You can't predict which way they're going to go. It makes limited people uncomfortable - frustrated, because they don't understand the point, and people hate what they don't understand. But the ones who get it," he said, lifting a hand to my face, "find it fascinating. Beautiful." He traced the shape of my mouth with his thumb. "Like you.”