Spellbound

Part 11

Christian

I can't sleep. I swear, one more night of tossing and turning before I sedate myself. It's raining tonight, the soft sounds amplifying off our roof, although it's doing nothing to ease my mind. 

I'm so sick of tossing and turning over her, I don't know what to do. I don't want to rush anything, who knows if she even likes me anyway. AHHHHH!!! The frustration I have towards myself has been eating me up. I've been in love with this girl for years, and I still haven't made a move. 

I'm going to die alone.

Sighing, I turn over in bed to look at my phone for the time. I seem to be doing a lot more of that lately. 1:17 am.

I groan, moving the blankets off my body as I stand. I roll my arms, the muscles in my shoulder cracking at the movement. 

I stiffly walk to the door, making sure to open it quietly so I don't wake anyone else up. I reach the stairs, gripping the banister as I walk down them. Once I'm downstairs, I turn left, making a beeline for the piano room. Not many people know that I play, and I'd like to keep it that way. It's not that I'm embarrassed of it, well, only sort of, it's more that it's something I find really personal. I'm not amazing, like child prodigy skilled, I just like playing piano. I like how it calms me down whenever I'm feeling, well, anything I guess. I like how it clears my head, and I like how it's something that allows me to feel lost, even just for a while. Anyway, I don't like many people knowing because someone always turns it into a whole big... thing. People just don't get that I want to do something for the point of doing it. There doesn't always have to be a big, extravagant, end goal, ending with someone winning and becoming successful. You should be able to do something for the point of doing it, with no pressure from other people. 

These thoughts filter through my head as I push the door open, quietly closing it again. I cross to the piano and sit down, rustling around with the music on the stand before I find a nice, familiar melody I can play. I roll my shoulders again, the stiffness still present. I set my fingers on the keys, quickly finding where my left hand was needed to play a series of chords. I softly lower my fingers down, soft notes echoing from the big instrument. My notes are significantly softer than the rain outside, but it doesn't matter, as the 2 seem to pair harmoniously together. My right hand trails further to the right as I continue to play, the high pitched notes balancing out the darker chords. 

I'm pouring my heart into the music, all my thoughts and feelings flooding out like never before. I think about her, obviously, the flowing notes reminding me of her. Her smile, the pitch of her laugh, everything about her is enchanting. 

I'm finishing up the tune, the soft notes reaching out like a breathe, before a soft thud behind me snaps my attention. I quickly turn my head around, the culprit lying flat on the ground. A small, tattered paperback lies closed on the floor, it's owner nowhere to be seen. I stand up from the piano, as the curtain covering the window seat is pulled open. 

Lera.

 "Leers? I didn't even know you were in here, sorry, I'll go, sorry to interrupt you-" I stutter quietly, embarrassed that she heard me. I turn to leave, my head bowed low, but she grabs my hands and pulls, literally pulls me back towards her. And you thought I was bad?

"No, it's okay, sorry I didn't mean to scare you, I was just reading. Don't go. I mean, you can keep playing if you want, I liked it. It was good background music for my book." she quickly replies, looking up into my eyes, her own darkened and wide. I notice her eyes look blotchy, some tears still drowning her.

"Have you been crying?" I ask, as she lowers her own head, quickly swatting the remaining tears away. 

"Yeah, just the music and books make me cry sometimes. You know I'm emotional." she says, lifting her eyes to meet mine again, a warm flush overtaking her cheeks.