James was not a man with a natural affinity for music, yet he found himself profoundly shaken after hearing Ava perform Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata.
The music flowed like water. On this summer night, moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting dappled, shifting shadows across the floor. As Ava held her violin, she looked as breathtaking as a sculpture from ancient Greece; the sublime melody seemed to resonate within James's very marrow.
The music coursed through his veins in harmony with his own heartbeat, wrapping him in an ocean of sound, leaving him intoxicated and adrift in bliss. James had never expected her to interpret such a masterpiece with such perfection. Since they had begun living together, it had become a ritual for Ava to play for him every evening.
James had always considered Ava a soul born for music; listening to her was, in itself, a sublime pleasure. Yet tonight, he had no heart for it. His mind was a tempest of heartbreak.
He recalled one particular evening, watching Ava bathed in moonlight as she played. A sudden, raw, and irrepressible surge of desire had overwhelmed him. Unable to contain himself, he had rushed to her, sweeping her up in a torrent of passion that lasted until dawn. They had been like a stormy sea, tireless and consumed by one another, until they were left utterly breathless and drained.
As these memories flooded back, he was startled to feel his own body betray him—a sudden, primal stirring that ignited a fire in his blood. It was a flash of raw, instinctual desire that threatened to consume his resolve.
"James, I was truly happy being with you at university... but now, I must pursue my own happiness. Didn't you once say that to love someone is to be willing to sacrifice for them?"
The echo of Ava's rejection shattered his reverie like a bucket of icy water, instantly extinguishing the fire within him.
'God, even now, I'm still letting my baser instincts rule me. I am truly beyond help,' he thought, striking his forehead and shaking his head in a desperate attempt to clear his mind. He was ashamed that he could harbor such profane thoughts in their final moments together. He looked up at Ava, who continued to play with intense devotion.
Ava's lips curved into a faint, sweet smile—so innocent, so pure. Yet, for a split second, James felt a sudden, freezing chill, as if he had been plunged into a deep cellar.
James was a young man in the prime of health, possessing an intense, almost insatiable physical appetite. After experiencing the exquisite intimacy of their relationship, he had come to crave her touch every single night. The sight of Ava yielding beneath him, her expressions of surrender and ecstasy, provided a profound validation to both his passion and his pride.
Ava, though perhaps not always accustomed to the eccentricities of James's mind, had always played the part of the gentle, devoted wife, indulging his almost demanding desires.
Watching her perform this final movement, he saw the faint flush on her cheeks, the shy, tender expression she wore, and the subtle, lingering mischief in her eyes—it all served to reignite that fierce, possessive hunger deep within him.
Ava moved toward him, her steps elegant and fluid, her movements reminiscent of the graceful grace often described in classical Chinese aesthetics. Her slender waist swayed, and her form, accentuated by the fabric of her dress, possessed an allure that seemed to defy the limits of earthly beauty.
As she approached, the ice in James's heart began to thaw. A faint, sunlight-drenched smile tugged at his lips—a man looking toward heaven from the depths of hell.
Ava was ethereal, with skin as white as jade and features so refined they seemed carved by nature itself. Her dark hair cascaded like polished silk, and her profile—the elegant curve of her neck and her delicate, almond-shaped eyes—carried a timeless beauty that defied simple description. She was the embodiment of the classical ideal: not a fraction too plump, nor a fraction too thin. Her delicate, alluring beauty drew men into a vortex of desire from which there was no escape.
James was no exception. Though he knew every inch of her, though he had worshipped her body with a familiarity that belonged to no one else, he remained hopelessly, deeply obsessed.
As she swayed gracefully around him, James could hear the heavy thudding of his own heart. The blood in his veins seemed to thicken with adrenaline; his pulse quickened, and his body responded with a raw, undeniable surge of longing.
Ava offered a bewitching smile, her eyes sparkling. Her delicate fingers danced across the strings with unmatched technical precision. James reached out, his hands trembling as he pulled her slim waist toward him. A faint, refreshing scent of youthful innocence washed over him. He pressed his face into her shoulder, feeling the radiant warmth of her skin, his hands greedily tracing the smooth, taut surface of her abdomen.
Ava's body trembled, yet she did not stop playing. However, the melody of "Scenes of Love" had begun to fray, losing its initial peace and tranquility, transforming instead into something lingering, tangled, and bittersweet.
James pressed burning kisses onto her porcelain neck, and his hands slipped beneath the collar of her dress...
Ava leaned her head against his broad shoulder, her lips slightly parted. James leaned down and crushed his lips against hers. Her warm, supple tongue danced in his mouth, a shy yet playful sparring partner in their final, wild, and desperate embrace.