The delay was only momentary. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. Had to. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0Ljk3LjEwNCAtIDA0LTA3LTIwMjQgMjE6MzY6MTIgLSAxNjQ2OTQ3NDc4
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