The studio was empty, except for Lena and Julian. Midnight. Wine. And tension humming louder than the bass line.
"You're scared of being heard," he said, brushing hair from her face.
"I'm not scared of sound," she whispered. "I'm scared of what comes after."
He didn't kiss her. Not yet.
But his gaze said: I'II wait until the silence breaks you open.
And in that moment, it almost did.