Wo Wei Ni Xie De,” He Said, As He Raised The Violin To His Left Shoulder, Tucking It Under His Chin. He Had Told Her Many Violinists Used A Shoulder Rest, But He Did Not: There Was A Slight Mark On The Side Of His Throat, Like A Permanent Bruise, Where The Violin Rested. “you — Made Something For Me?” Tessa Asked. “i Wrote Something For You,” He Corrected, With A Smile, And Began To Play.
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Wo Wei Ni Xie De,” He Said,
Cassandra Clare
Wo Wei Ni Xie De,” He Said, As He Raised The Violin To His Left Shoulder, Tucking It Under His Chin. He Had Told Her Many Violinists Used A Shoulder Rest, But He Did Not: There Was A Slight Mark On The Side Of His Throat, Like A Permanent Bruise, Where The Violin Rested. “you — Made Something For Me?” Tessa Asked. “i Wrote Something For You,” He Corrected, With A Smile, And Began To Play.
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