Edward kept playing, moving slowly as he went into the Introduzione. Some things were easier points than others to get across. A book given in the end of the universe for a mutual interest just a few decades out of place.




It's small compared to other things.
That those could be near that easy ever.
As easy as a book, or the notes from his fingers.


But no -- Edward's fingers stopped, singular and sudden, discordant -- he has too many innumerable reasons why that shouldn't and couldn't, why deserving anything to be simple wasn't a part of his equation.