The early morning rain had left the air clean, with a scent of damp earth that seeped through the windows of the music room. Mia arrived early, her guitar case slung over her shoulder. I need this space to breathe, she thought as she arranged the chairs. The room, empty at this hour, felt like a refuge.
She placed the guitar on the table and ran her fingers over the strings, testing a soft chord that blended with the distant murmur of the campus. If I play a little, maybe I can sort out my thoughts.
—It always sounds better when you're the first one here,— said a familiar voice.
Mia looked up and found David in the doorway, his hair still damp from the drizzle.
—I thought you'd be later,— she remarked.
—Couldn't sleep. I told myself if I came early, I'd find you here.—
He sat beside her without asking permission. Mia began playing again, a short melody she'd been practicing.
—Pretty,— David murmured. —It's new.—
—I wrote it last night,— Mia replied, lowering her gaze. —When I don't know what to think, I play.—
David propped his elbows on the table. —I walk when I don't know what to think. But I guess the result is the same.—
She smiled wearily. —Did you walk a lot?—
—Quite a bit. With Semiel.—
Mia stopped playing. —How did he seem?—
—Worried,— he said bluntly. —About Saval, about everything.—
Mia took a deep breath. —I wish I could help more. But every time I talk to Saval, I feel like he's hiding behind a door I can't open.—
David watched her silently. She worries too much, even about other people's silences, he thought, but didn't say it.
—Maybe he just needs time,— he said finally. —Or maybe he just needs us to be here, even if we don't know what to say.—
Mia set the guitar aside and turned to him. —And you? How are you holding up with all this?—
David shrugged. —I'm… —he paused, thinking—. I'm trying not to lose everyone.—
She felt a knot in her chest. —You're not going to lose them.—
—Sometimes it's not up to me.—
A heavy silence settled between them. Outside, the wind rustled the tree branches. Mia leaned her head against the wall. If only I could find the right words, maybe things would change for everyone.
David broke the silence. —Want to play something together?—
—Sure.—
He grabbed a spare guitar from the corner and sat facing her. They began playing a duet they knew by heart. The notes filled the room, soft at first, then growing stronger. Each chord felt like a conversation that needed no translation.
When they finished, Mia felt the weight in her chest lighten. —Thank you,— she whispered.
David smiled. —This is why it's worth waking up early.—
She looked down, a small smile escaping her lips. Maybe music is the only way to say what we don't know how to say.
They stayed like that for a moment, the echo of the strings slowly fading. Outside, the sky began to clear, as if the morning wanted to give them a sign that, despite everything, there was still room for light.