Note: Again what has been proven is the infinite patience of my readers. Gratitude for your kind thoughts!
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It was late afternoon and Claire was sitting in the front row of the symphony hall, watching Sebastien put the orchestra through its paces with Stravinsky. Her sketchbook was balanced on her knee, but she hadn't drawn so much as one line. She was worried. It wasn't just his demeanor tonight -- he seemed to be in a pretty foul mood and was snapping at his musicians more than usual -- but also the way he had been for the past week or so.
Ever since the night of the costume party, when Claire had felt a separation between them most acutely, she had been noticing it more and more. They spent time together, but it was as if Sebastien was distracted somehow.
Claire had been trying to brush it off, but today watching him berate the string sections until the first cellist was nearly in tears, she decided that enough was enough. He would tell her what was going on, or she wasn't going to leave him alone. She so rarely pressed him on how he was feeling, she thought she should get a free pass just this once.
"Again, again!" he cried. "Let us take it from three after B. Three after B, please, and the cellos need to play out. I cannot hear you over the horns." They began again, but had only gone a few bars before he was shaking his head and waving his arm for silence. Whipping around to face a rather startled Claire, he asked, "How does it sound to you? They still need to play out more, no?"
She bit her lip. Truth be told, she hadn't been listening all that carefully and she suspected Sebastien was nitpicking. She heard the cellos, though it might have been that the balance wasn't exactly perfect. Still, looking up at the first cellist's distraught face, she knew it wasn't the time to encourage his perfectionist tendencies.
"It sounds fine to me, Maestro," she said lightly, trying to tell him with her eyes that he should let it go. He twisted his face up in irritation and she shrugged. "Besides, you've only got them for another fifteen minutes and you should probably run through the last movement." He glared down at her, and she frowned back.
"This is my orchestra and I will keep them here all night if I must in order for them to get it right." She knew she should let it go, but...
"No, you won't. You can't, and you won't, so you should make use of the time you have."
If she'd thought he was glaring before, it was nothing compared to the look he gave her now. She could see he wanted to argue, that he very much did not want to be bested in a contest of wills in front of the orchestra. At the same time she knew he was well aware that she was right, which left him unable to do anything but give in.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and now Claire was getting annoyed. She'd have been willing to look away first, but she could hardly give him a nice, submissive look with the entire symphony watching. And they were, of course watching. Waiting.
Sebastien finally composed his face into his usual non-expression, but his eyes stayed on hers as if he were trying to tell her something. She held his gaze for another moment before shrugging one shoulder and dropping her eyes back to her blank paper. Sebastien turned back around and, to the surprise of the musicians, flipped forward in his score.
"Last movement, please. We will start from the top." When some of the musicians were slow in getting there, their glances still lingering on Claire, he made no more than a token protest. Claire was relieved, but watched him with concern. He had a defeated air about him now, never a good sign. And they both knew what the orchestra was thinking. The lamb had tamed the lion.
Hah. If only they knew.
Even Sebastien's conducting seemed subdued now, as if he were contrite, even regretful of his snappishness. He let a few minor errors go by entirely without comment. When the orchestra got off by a beat, Claire thought he wasn't going to do anything at first. Three bars later he dropped his arms, shook his head briefly, and waited for them to lumber to a halt before raising his arms again resignedly.
"Once more, please, from four after letter F. Four after F." He conducted, but it seemed he was somewhere else, perhaps listening to music none of them could hear. At last feeling he would make no further progress with them that night, he dismissed them early. They shuffled out of the auditorium, looking a little confused, but Claire didn't move until they were all gone.
Sebastien stood alone on stage looking a bit forlorn in the dim stage lights. He wandered off to the side of the stage, straightening a row of chairs absently as Claire mounted the steps. He didn't turn when she touched his arm.
"Maestro, are you feeling all right?"
"Of course."
"It's just that you don't seem quite yourself today."
"Everything is fine."
"I think we both know that's not true. Why won't you talk to me?"
"As I have already said, everything is fine!" he snapped, turning to face her so suddenly that she took a step back in surprise.
"I don't understand why you're so upset."
"Oh, really? Perhaps you recall arguing with me in front of all my musicians tonight," he said, stalking toward her menacingly. She moved back away from him until she suddenly met the wall behind her.
"Th-that's not what I meant, and you know it," she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Oh?" His voice was low and dangerous, and altogether too steady.
"You've been acting strangely all afternoon. I want to know what the matter is."
"There is nothing," he said in a soft, angry voice.
"There is!" she insisted, just as angrily now. "I know you're hiding something from me, and I want to know what it is." Sebastien jerked back in surprise, a flash of something that might have been guilt crossing his face briefly.
"If you keep harassing me about this, I swear I will --"
"Will what?" she challenged, interrupting him.
"I will make you very sorry," he replied, leaning over again and moving his face inches away from hers heatedly. Claire felt twin spikes of terror and arousal tear through her, and her heart sped up. Her chest was heaving with the emotions flooding through her, and it did not escape her notice when Sebastien's eyes strayed downward for a lingering moment before making heated eye contact with her again. Things were getting intense, quickly.
