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Music was Musa’s safe heaven, her source of comfort, and the thing she always ran to when she needed a break from everything: the world, the people, and more importantly: said people’s feelings.
Lately, she’s been switching running to music for running to Sam, since his numbness helped somewhat with numbing herself, almost like throwing a blanket over your head and shutting yourself from the world.
People normally complained about how often her headphones were found around her neck; they asked how could she like having something so goddam loud blasting in her ears all the time, how could she enjoy life when she was constantly drowning it with music. The thing was, they never understood that that was the exact reason Musa enjoyed listening to music so much, she loved the feeling of narrowing the world down to her body and the melody. In those moments she was the maker and ruler of the world, at least of the one she had created for herself in her head.
She really hated being judgy, but she tended to find people who didn’t understand the power of music to be a little stupid. Music was creation and destruction, begging and end, and Musa loved it down to her very bones.
Sure, it had started as a way to lessen her headaches and make her life a little more manageable, but it had become so much more, it had become an extension of herself. She hated that constantly listening to it, made people think of her as rude, but there were occasional times where she felt like telling everyone who judged her for doing this, for being who she was to simply fuck off. It was her mind, her ears, her rules.
However, there was one downside to listening to music that even Musa could agree was bothersome, and that was that sometimes you’d get too invested and wouldn’t see where you’re going, and most often than not that had led her smacking front center with another being...such as now.
Musa hadn’t had even a second to react before her body had hit against a solid being - heck, was this dude a brick wall? – and she couldn’t help the small oomph that left her mouth. Luckily for her, before her butt could hit the concrete floor, and wouldn’t that hurt like a bitch, an arm snaked around her waist and stabilized her.
“Careful there pixie, wouldn’t want to hurt that little ass of yours on the floor, now would you.” Came the deep, heavily accented voice from above her. She looked up, only to come in contact with the deepest green eyes she had ever seen, and stupidly, because that was the only plausible explanation for that, somewhere inside of her she could swear she heard, no more than a whisper, almost a promise “There you are”.
The guy holding her was simply and plainly hot. Devilish smirk, piercing eyes, and a face that should honestly be illegal. Unfortunately, for her or for him, we shall never know, he made the mistake of opening his – admittedly very distracting – mouth, and her daze-like state came crashing down faster than she could blink.
“I know I’m hot, but no need to drool so much pixie” His smirk still firmly in place, he had the audacity to press her more against his body. Rage and annoyance that Musa was a hundred percent certain were hers, rose deep whiting her and, with perhaps more force than necessary, she pushed herself out of his embrace, if you could call it that.
“Excuse you? You’re the one that bumped into me” She was aware that that wasn’t necessarily true, but for some reason, this guy she didn’t even know was irking her in a way that made her not so willing to give him an easy pass, besides, she may have been distracted with her music but he hadn’t – or at least she thought he hadn’t, to be completely honest she just didn’t feel like being civil with him.
“Me?! You’re the one who’s so busy blasting a song so fucking loud even the Specialists on the training field can hear, to notice where you’re going” His eyes were narrowed and his voice hard and for the first time since she – he – bumped into him – her – she noticed that she couldn’t hear anything coming from him. Correction, she could hear something, everything to be more precise, but it was so fucking loud that it was almost like silence, it was chaos in it’s purest form.
“What the fuck are you doing?” With a jolt, she realized her eyes had started to glow and the dude was giving her the biggest ‘I don’t fucking trust whatever the hell you’re doing’ look ever.
“Nothing” Lying was the easiest way out, as he seemed like the type to scream at her to stop being a freaky snooper.
A silence settled on top of them and Musa wanted to get out of there, fast. She could feel those eyes – so mesmerizing – checking her out from head to toe, and to her uttermost horror she had to suppress a shiver – no one should have so much power in just one look.
“Look, it doesn’t matter who bumped into who, I have to go.” And with that she bypassed him and went on her merry way, and, if when she was leaving, she imagined hearing the wind whisper behind her back “I’ve been looking for you”, well, that wasn’t anyone’s business.
Later, she would learn his name was Riven, that he was a second-year specialist, Sky’s friend, and more importantly: a huge asshole. She would learn that he was involved in some weird shit with that psycho Beatrix and that he hated their school. Later, she would realize that blankets were nice things to have around you from time to time, but when you covered yourself from head to toe with one, there would come a time when you’d start suffocating. She would realize that she liked Sam, but she couldn’t date someone who she had turned to mainly because of his muteness. She would realize that a perfect boyfriend for her wasn’t someone who would help shield her from the chaos of the world, instead, it would be someone that helped her be able to live, happily, even in the middle of the storm. She would also come to realize that Riven’s mind was loud in the same way her music was loud: comforting, empowering and everything she wanted.
He would learn her name was Musa, and she was friend’s with Sky’s little redhead love, he would learn she used to be a dancer – and that would start a whole series of fantasies that varied from wondering about flexibility to imagining a whole ballroom dance – he was going to discover she was an empath and would start screaming at her to ‘to stay the fuck out of my head’. He would learn that he was used and that those he thought cared for him didn’t do it at all, and, at the end, he would discover that nothing, not his weed, nor his alcohol nor his training sessions, gave him as much peace and comfort as her eyes, both brown or purple.
They both would learn that two souls never found each other by accident.