She lent her body against the warm wood and her head against the cool window pane and watched  as the rain streaked down the glass. The bare trees outside were shrouded in mist, murky greens, greys and browns wreathed in ghostly white.
Behind her the fire crackled and spat as the damp logs burned.

She could feel him moving softly round the room to the piano, and the gentle creak as he sat down to play. His fingers touched the keys confidently, she smiled slightly as  his hands ran over the keyboard and  the melody began to slowly wash over her.

She watched his back as he moved with the flow of his playing,  head bent in concentration,  breathing calm and even.  

She felt warm and comfortable, safe, in his presence.
It was the first time he'd ever played just for her, but there was a sadness to his playing. She longed to reach out and touch him so he knew she was there and she understood, whatever it was that caused him such pain, she understood.

She inhaled sharply as she realised how deeply his music touched her, and how much she desired to be even closer  to him. She put her hand against the cold glass to feel something real, and bent her head as the tears flowed freely down her face.

Thunder rumbled overhead, it marked the ending of the song. She looked up, and found him staring back at her with his intense eyes.