I think music in itself is healing. It's an explosive expression of humanity. It's something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we're from, everyone loves music.
“I can’t ‘elp it, they’re funny when they fall over.” His brow only raised at her explanation, having never really thought his eyes anything worth mentioning. “Really? My eyes? I certainly never would ‘ave guessed that myself.” Liam was quick to shake his head at her apology, a smile returning to his lips out of habit. “It’s not your fault, it’s just not my cup of tea, you know? I’m not much of a date person, and to be ‘onest I like to spend all the time I can get out playin’ for the city.”
She shook her head, finally getting her laughter under control. “No, they are. I find it adorable. Especially when they’re tripping over their own feet.” Nodding in confirmation, Eva spoke, “They’re very pretty eyes. I wanted blue eyes when I was younger, but I’ve got brown, so…” She shrugged, still smiling. At the mention of playing for the city, those brown eyes widen and she turned quickly to fully face him. “You play? LIke, an instrument?”
“We are all supposed to look good.” She smiled, bold enough to touch the girl’s lovely hair. “You did your hair yourself? It’s pretty.”
“I did, yes. Just a loose curl my mother taught me,” she explained, not minding the gentle touch to her hair. “I’m Eva, by the way.” She stuck out a hand and offered a smile.
“I sure hope you’re right, love. ‘m too young to be murdered by some charitible young woman.”
He gave a swift nod before following her gaze, fighting unsuccessfully to keep the unamused expression off his features. “I put toddlers trippin’ among things that bring me joy in the questionarre. I want to know what women are payin’ money to spend time with a guy who says that.”
“Toddlers tripping?” Eva laughed, lifting her hand to cover her mouth in an attempt to stifle the giggles. “My guess? It’s the baby blue eyes. Only the strongest of women can resist eyes like yours.” She took notice of the none-too-pleased look on his face, her smiling fading. “I’m sorry. You’re obviously not happy about this.”
Your confidence is nothin’ but reassurin’, love, but I’m sure you’re right. They’d ‘ave to ‘ave some kind of precautions anyway, yeah?
I think vital might be an extreme overstatement in my case, but sure.
“I know, I’m sorry. That was terrible. I really do believe the woman who bids the highest for you will be lovely.”
“Liam, right?” Eva glanced towards the bids. “Look!” She nudged, him, smiling, “You’re tied with someone else for the most bids! I’d say that’s very vital. Looks like you’re better than you thought.”
Believe me, I am very much aware of that possibility. To be ‘onest, I’m about as thrilled at the prospet of being sold off to any random woman that could potentially kill me, as you are at the idea of buyin’ a potenial murderer.
But ‘ey, it’s for a good cause, or so they keep remindin’ me.
Oh. Right. Sorry. Uhm, I mean, it probably won’t happen to you. I’m sure whoever wins your date will be a perfect, non-murderous lady.
It is for a good cause. And you’re playing a vital role in it. You should be proud.
“Oh I see ‘ow it is. They technically are payin’ for the actual date though, it’s just you have to buy them first.”
Okay, you do have a point there.
Perhaps I’m more old fashion in the sense that I prefer to not buy a human being so that we can go on a date. I mean, can you imagine going on one of these dates only to find out you’ve bought or been bought by a serial killer?
