The Blue of the Night

J.A.N., Jahn A. to his friends. No one really knew what the A. stood for. Actually, it stood for nothing, his parents just couldn’t agree on a middle name.

He appeared around mid-night, disheveled, and needing a bath, as he found the party by the shore. His clothes needed cleaning too, but the horn that he carried was well burnished reflecting the fire light.

Bjorn welcomed him with the offer of a drink.

It was the music, Lilly was playing her viola, that drew him to them. He looked at her instrument as she looked at his horn. He put his lips to the mouthpiece, and blew a slowly rising note, that then wavered, before going on in a harmonic progression. Picking up her bow, she entered into the music with him. Following, leading, a crazy duet of sweet sorrows with mournful endings.

With the dawn’s first glimmer, the party broke up. Lilly and Jahn went together to her home. She turned and said with a smile, You do need a bath you know. So he followed her to the tub. Lilly told him to fill it with the temperature he wanted, she’d be back to wash him.

He had the silkiest hair she ever felt, once cleaned. His proportions were classic, his face long, dark black, almost iridescent eyes, with long lashes, she wished hers were that long. His shoulders and arms were toned, not muscled, his feet very ticklish. Then she dried him.

The sun was nearly up when they went to bed, she spooning behind him, and they slept with dreams of music in their heads.