Not a Fan (Wilbur Soot)

Backtracking

Keys pressed easily below her fingers, the inauthentic hum of each note emitting from the electronic keyboard's speakers. 

Playing Wilbur's modest Yamaha keyboard made her crave the feeling of weighted keys fighting to be played on her mother's grand piano. 

She took lessons on that very piano as a child. Her hands were much smaller then, barely spanning the length on five notes. Although Aurora hated the discipline from her teacher, she was always so excited to watch the sea of colors appear when she played the instrument. Grand pianos have always had the most brilliant vibrancy to their colors. 

The colors from this keyboard were nothing like the memories she reminisced about. They were muted and didn't have the same liveliness to them. 

The occasional sound of a clanking dish rang behind her, followed by the sweet green, "Sorry!" Wilbur would call out each time. It wasn't even like she needed to hear his voice constantly to find chords that would match, she had his color locked away in her memory. 

Chords melded together, a melody emerging on it's own. How long had it been since she sat down in front of a piano? Months? Half a year? Maybe longer. 

Brighton had reconnected her with more than she imagined. The only goal she had in mind was to return to her love of painting. Yet, she had hardly painted since she arrived. Aurora couldn't believe the joy she had found in singing and playing instruments again. Her apartment seemed to never be quiet anymore, her voice constantly bouncing off the walls as she sang along to whatever playlist she was listening to. 

For more time than she could fathom, she hadn't done more than sing a verse of a song in the shower, or hum a random tune that had gotten stuck in her head. She felt like being in Brighton had finally given her her voice back. A voice she couldn't even track when she had lost. 

"Okay, dishes are done! Show me what you've come up with." Wilbur's voice bounced through his words, the green already blending in with the notes she was playing. 

Aurora looked over her shoulder to find Wilbur crouched next to her, a smile on his face while he stared at her hands. 

The next hour went by wonderfully slow. Two bodies sharing a bench far too small for them, shoulders and hips pressing against one another. Hands brushing against one another as chords harmonized between them. Her feet dangled off the edge of the bench while his laid firmly on the ground below. 

"That's everything that matches your voice. Do with this information as you wish." Aurora smiled, leaning away from Wilbur in order to watch his last frantic efforts to scribble notes onto stray sheet music. 

"This is honestly so cool to me, you'll be the first to hear whatever I come up with." Wilbur smiled brightly to her, the excitement on his face looked so genuine in the golden glow from the sun.

"I'm glad you're entertained." She laughed, leaning back so their shoulders would touch again. She reached out hesitantly to the keys, her fingers grazing across a few, but not with enough force for the electronic sound to come out. 

"What chords match your voice?" Wilbur asked, setting the completed sheet music on the top of the piano. Aurora's hand froze. There it was again. Her stupid voice's color. 

"Uh." She barely vocalized, pulling her hand to her lap.

"Fuck, sorry. Don't ask about.. That. I forgot, I'm sorry Rori." Despite apologizing, Wilbur's voice sounded tense. She didn't have to look up to know his brows were furrowed together, his eyes most likely squinted shut as he mentally cursed himself. 

His hand made it's way into hers, a silent apology that meant more than his verbal one. 

Maybe opening up wouldn't be so bad. After all, she did tell herself that she wanted to give him the same genuineness that he gave her.