What a perfect day. The sun was shining in the azure blue sky, and the birds sang contently. Genevieve lay on the cool stone slabs of her garden, and sighed. A sound was being carried on the gentle breeze. Music. She sat up, straining her ears, listening closely. Yep, it was definitely music, a guitar. It was sweetly familiar, and Genevieve rose and walked, entranced, in the direction of the sound.
It was a song she new. She learnt it when she was small, memorising the small part her old music box played. She had looked it up in a music shop, until she found the sheet music, and learnt it on the piano, words and all. And now, here it was, being played by a total stranger. Eventually, she came to the source of the magic. A boy, sitting in a tree with a battered wooden guitar on his lap. He hadn't noticed her, and she wanted to keep it that way, but she could not help singing along. The clear, pure notes came out of her mouth in a way she had never sung before. She wasn't as good as this last night, when she was belting out Dancing Queen in the shower. Somehow, she had transformed into an amazing singer. The boy looked down, shocked, and met her gaze with his deep brown, lash framed eyes.