DylanÂ’s common sense didnÂ’t say much when he landed him in situations like this. Its resignation was still sitting on whatever desk it is that conceptual functions of the mind go to in order to resign, dusty and unattended to. Over the years it had grown rather lazy, sitting with a bowl of popcorn in a corner of his mind, watching time and life wander by. Now and then a twinge to interfere would tickle at the bottom of its heart, but even the most potent hormones werenÂ’t enough to rouse it. But now, given the ability, Dyl was fairly certain it wouldnÂ’t have nodded in approval. An enormous stock of defense mechanisms helped out with that little problem of his. The future could be avoided. The past could be denied. He could run away from her right here, right now. People of the present were as selfish as he was, keeping love close to their heart and stripping everything around them bare to feed it. Social webs were dangerous, thus avoided, and the entire world was just amusing. He stopped as soon as sheÂ’d begun to protest, violently blushing and shutting his mouth. [IÂ… yes.] He held her close, as tight as he wouldÂ’ve were they in the face of the apocalypse, in the end of the world, and then he danced with her. --- Requiem kissed him at the curve of where his jaw met his throat, running his hands through CayÂ’s hair. "Yeah. I guess you can go find them, sweetie, but I have to go play one song. Just one, I promise. I wrote it for you." He pecked him on the forehead before beckoning to him, slipping through the bar to the back of an elevated stage. A few minutes later he emerged with an acid-green and snow-white guitar. Â‘Quiem walked to the front of the stage, his boyishly handsome grin on his face. He touched a string; the note sounded in the silence pure, sweet, hesitant as a question - he heard someone loose a breath. His fingers strayed over the strings aimlessly for a moment, then wandered into the gentle haunting chords of the piece he'd wrote for Case. His fingers drew the song faultlessly from the flashing, close-set strings, his skilled hands and voice tuned to precision traced the paths and patterns of the number. Â“Today is gonna be the day That they're gonna throw it back to you. By now you should've somehow Realized what you got to do. I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do about you nowÂ…" The band burst into the heartwrenching song of strings, the notes tearing at the silence like tiny birds. They beat a harmony under his singing, burning hot and bright with fire. Â“Back-beat, the word was on the street That the fire in your heart is out I'm sure you've heard it all before, But you never really had a doubt - I don't believe that anybody feels The way I do about you now." Requiem flashed a grin to Cayson, smiling so hard it looked as though he was going to rip the flesh of his mouth. Â“And all the roads we have to walk along are winding And all the lights that lead us there are blinding There are many things that I would Like to say to you But I don't know howÂ… Because maybe You're gonna be the one who saves me - And after all You're my wonderwallÂ…"