“‘Tomorrow’. It's called ‘Tomorrow’,” Kat smiled before she places four of her left hand's fingers against the strings and into various frets. Her right hand moved to strum, and the instrument has started to elicit sounds that are satisfying enough to put their souls at ease.
It was like a sound of a harp, and Sharon has found herself wanting to stay until the angels start to sing and lull her to sleep.
Kat's eyes stayed on Sharon's, never wanting to leave its deep wonders. She was expertly fiddling and playing the guitar like she and the strings were moving as only one body. She could feel her breath following the pace each of the movements of her fingers make.
The world has, if it was possible, seemed to halt for the both of them. They were locked in an intense staring game, and no o
