eyelashes.
She felt his eyes fall on her, truly look at her for a moment, and she could feel the heat build in her face.
I cannot believe I'm starting to blush right now. Get a hold of yourself Melissa. This is just another interview with just another guy –
But his strong, skilled hands can make a guitar sing, and his baritone can shake walls and hearts.
She smiled, trying to ignore the very physical reaction she had to being in his presence for the first time.
“ Come in, Melissa. It's nice of you to come by.” She found that his voice had a soothing, real quality to it. Like he meant every word that he spoke. He stood aside and gestured for her to walk inside before closing the door behind her and taking her coat.
Manners. He has manners. Not what she'd expected. Now, as she watched him hang her coat, she realized that maybe it made sense. He wasn't some self-absorbed kid with a social media account, a guitar, and cute hair blinded by the sudden headlights of fame. This was Liam Sims. He'd been doing his thing for twenty years. And if you listened to him, his music was still good . It got under your skin. Made you feel something.
“This is a peaceful spot you've got for yourself,” she said. He laughed.
“I know, it's in the middle of nowhere, Maine, right? I think I do my best writing here. I've had this house for the last ten years, and when I need to be alone to think this is where I come. You want anything from the kitchen? You must be hungry after your flight.”
“I don't know about hungry. I had a near-death experience in the airplane, so I think I left my stomach somewhere around 32,000 feet. But I could use a glass of water.”
“Coming right up,” he said. He disappeared briefly into his kitchen.
What struck her then was the ease with which the two of them had started their conversation. He spoke to her with a familiarity that made her feel like she didn't particularly need to hurry to get anywhere else. They'd get to the interview eventually. For now, it was good just to talk .
He came back with a glass of water and handed it to her. As she drank, she peered up from her water glass through her dark-rimmed glasses and could see him looking at her. His warm smile shone toward her. It was the sort of smile she could get used to.
Forget it Melissa. You have a job to do. This is not the time to think about how charming Liam Sims is. Her heart fluttered, just a few beats, as she finished her water.
“You had a hell of a scare back there, didn't you?” he said. He'd crossed his arms and was holding his trimmed beard, as though that observation brought back some memory for him.
“It was nothing, we all made it down fine –”
(we all fall down)
But really she knew that it hadn't been nothing. Something inside her had changed. Somewhere in the part of her brain that senses mortality, a bit had flipped. She had peered into the dark well of her life and seen that there was an inky bottom staring up at her from the blackness. The thought of living her life as she had before, drifting from deadline to deadline, getting caught up in the mundane without being aware of it...that thought terrified her.
“Come here,” he said. “Stand right in front of me for a sec.” She didn't bother asking why. She just knew that the invitation to stand closer to him was something that had awakened a welling up of longing inside her, like a deep ocean current rising with its sustenance.
What's happening here? What about journalistic objectivity? How am I supposed to write an article when I have a crush on my subject?
She did as he asked and stood in front of him. His hands fell on her shoulders gently, and she felt his thumbs work their way into the muscles just below her neck. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Her heart leapt inside her and started to beat faster.
You haven't known Liam more than five minutes, and
She felt his eyes fall on her, truly look at her for a moment, and she could feel the heat build in her face.
I cannot believe I'm starting to blush right now. Get a hold of yourself Melissa. This is just another interview with just another guy –
But his strong, skilled hands can make a guitar sing, and his baritone can shake walls and hearts.
She smiled, trying to ignore the very physical reaction she had to being in his presence for the first time.
“ Come in, Melissa. It's nice of you to come by.” She found that his voice had a soothing, real quality to it. Like he meant every word that he spoke. He stood aside and gestured for her to walk inside before closing the door behind her and taking her coat.
Manners. He has manners. Not what she'd expected. Now, as she watched him hang her coat, she realized that maybe it made sense. He wasn't some self-absorbed kid with a social media account, a guitar, and cute hair blinded by the sudden headlights of fame. This was Liam Sims. He'd been doing his thing for twenty years. And if you listened to him, his music was still good . It got under your skin. Made you feel something.
“This is a peaceful spot you've got for yourself,” she said. He laughed.
“I know, it's in the middle of nowhere, Maine, right? I think I do my best writing here. I've had this house for the last ten years, and when I need to be alone to think this is where I come. You want anything from the kitchen? You must be hungry after your flight.”
“I don't know about hungry. I had a near-death experience in the airplane, so I think I left my stomach somewhere around 32,000 feet. But I could use a glass of water.”
“Coming right up,” he said. He disappeared briefly into his kitchen.
What struck her then was the ease with which the two of them had started their conversation. He spoke to her with a familiarity that made her feel like she didn't particularly need to hurry to get anywhere else. They'd get to the interview eventually. For now, it was good just to talk .
He came back with a glass of water and handed it to her. As she drank, she peered up from her water glass through her dark-rimmed glasses and could see him looking at her. His warm smile shone toward her. It was the sort of smile she could get used to.
Forget it Melissa. You have a job to do. This is not the time to think about how charming Liam Sims is. Her heart fluttered, just a few beats, as she finished her water.
“You had a hell of a scare back there, didn't you?” he said. He'd crossed his arms and was holding his trimmed beard, as though that observation brought back some memory for him.
“It was nothing, we all made it down fine –”
(we all fall down)
But really she knew that it hadn't been nothing. Something inside her had changed. Somewhere in the part of her brain that senses mortality, a bit had flipped. She had peered into the dark well of her life and seen that there was an inky bottom staring up at her from the blackness. The thought of living her life as she had before, drifting from deadline to deadline, getting caught up in the mundane without being aware of it...that thought terrified her.
“Come here,” he said. “Stand right in front of me for a sec.” She didn't bother asking why. She just knew that the invitation to stand closer to him was something that had awakened a welling up of longing inside her, like a deep ocean current rising with its sustenance.
What's happening here? What about journalistic objectivity? How am I supposed to write an article when I have a crush on my subject?
She did as he asked and stood in front of him. His hands fell on her shoulders gently, and she felt his thumbs work their way into the muscles just below her neck. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Her heart leapt inside her and started to beat faster.
You haven't known Liam more than five minutes, and
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