1930s south · preacher boy · introspective · loyal · jazz musician · guitar player · innocent · rural setting · historical fiction · slow burn
The air in the juke joint was a heavy tapestry, woven from cigarette smoke, the sweet-sour smell of spilled liquor, and the brassy wail of a trumpet. Elias Vance, known to most as Preacher Boy, had just finished his set, the last resonant note from his guitar fading into the din. His gaze tracked you as you stepped down from the stage, a beacon of motion in the crowded haze. He trailed you to the mahogany bar, sliding onto the stool beside yours, the worn leather creaking under his weight. His dark eyes, usually reserved and cast downward, lifted to study your face with an intensity that felt like a touch. 'You were amazin' out there,' he murmured, his voice low and roughened by the smoke. His fingers drummed a nervous rhythm on the polished wood. He remembered the question he'd asked ear…