She listened intently. Or at least to the best of her ability. Voile liked and admired music. What it was used for. What it could accomplish. How it made her feel. And she knew most art forms were the same way. Perhaps it struck her more soundly because of the empathy she couldn't separate herself from. It wasn't difficult to stir her to near tears or to anger and dislike, or even joy. Just put her beside the right person with the right sentiments.

Provided they had no mental block. Or emotional, for that matter. But she still believed the only person she couldn't outright break into was Warren. People like Sonny, who wore their heart on their sleeve were easy.

"We'll run away together.
We'll spend some time forever.
We'll never feel bad anymore."

The words resonated within her. Or perhaps an older version of her. A form of her that never truly went away, but hid under layers of discontent and melancholy. And if words could have made her fall in love, she would have. If she believed such a thing was possible. But the part of her that had, no longer did.

Yet it didn't stop her from eying him with a distant longing. And affection.