PAVEL'S POV
For more than an hour, I sit on the bench next to Asya, listening to her play. Or better said, I stare at her while she plays. I find it impossible to take my eyes off her face, seeing every emotion as it crosses her features. When she's playing a fast and uplifting piece, there is a wide smile on her face. When she switches to something slow and sad, her smile fades. She's not merely playing the notes. She feels and experiences every emotion as the melody rises and flows through her, lighting her up from the inside out.
When I'm finally able to unglue my eyes from her face and throw a glance at my watch, I see that it's almost two. We've only had breakfast this morning, and while I don't have a problem with skipping meals, I don't want Asya to be hungry.
