The Pianist

Worrying

You jumped back as if you had been burned, heart pounding for an altogether different reason now.

Panic.

Mon Dieu, what had you done.

What had you done??

Almost kissing a teacher??

Would you be suspended?? Expelled??

You could feel the rigid line of Yoongi's frame where he was still pressed up against your side, after you two had almost.......

No.

You didn't dare think it again.

Otherwise you wouldn't be able to think of anything else. All day. All week.

You remained frozen, mouth too dry to speak, praying Yoongi would somehow handle the situation.

Yoongi's voice was harsh when he finally spoke. "Taehyung. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I-I, uh....."

Taehyung stumbled over his words.

You couldn't resist and turned your head to peek at the man who had walked in on you two.

He was a handsome young man, about Yoongi's age, clad stylishly in leather loafers and a striped tweed coat. Wavy black hair framed his startled, apologetic face.

"Merde. Merde I'm soooo sorry. Uh, if I'd have known that you were........occupied I wouldn't have come in here." He wrung his hands nervously together.

Yoongi sighed. "Why are you here then? It better be fucking important."

"Right. Listen, I know you're very busy but our pianist for the Molière play tonight cancelled and you're the best pianist I know so I was wondering if you could fill in for him...." Taehyung trailed off uncertainly.

Yoongi groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Really, Taehyung? You know how I feel about last-minute news..."

"Yes I know, but I'm out of options...." Taehyung looked apologetic.

You silently watched them argue back and forth. Taehyung looked vaguely familiar to you......but where could you have seen him before?

Ah, that's right!

You remembered seeing his portrait hanging in the hall of professors. Kim Taehyung. He headed the drama department. And he had been one of the six other men accompanying Yoongi, that night you saw him at the Café du Flore.

It felt like so long ago.

You tuned back into their argument that looked like it was reaching an end.

"...Ugh. Fine. I'll fill in for your stupid play." Yoongi grimaced.

Taehyung gasped in scandalized horror.

"Stupid? Stupid?? Excusez-moi but we're talking about Molière here, the greatest French dramatist of all time!" He responded heatedly.

Yoongi arched an unimpressed eyebrow. "You know I hate theater. I have enough drama in my life as it is."

Taehyung opened and closed his mouth, face beet red, a large vein bulging on his forehead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking a few seconds to calm himself down.

"I will forgive your insult against theater. For now." Taehyung proclaimed dramatically.

"Thank you for the immense blessing of your mercy." Yoongi said drily.

"You're welcome!"

It didn't seem like Taehyung had caught his sarcasm.

"Alright, leaving now. My apologies, miss." Taehyung addressed you, and you jumped, slightly startled.

"Au revoir." And with that, he closed the door behind him, leaving you two alone again.

"And not even a thank you." Yoongi murmured, shaking his head.

You didn't respond, as a sinking feeling was settling into your heart.

You bolted up from the bench, feeling jumpy and nervous as you paced the room.

"Oh God what am I going to do now?? My career is finished. I'll have to leave Paris, maybe leave the country..." You raked your hands through your hair, breathing heavily.

Yoongi frowned in puzzlement. "Y/N, what are you talking about?"

You stopped your pacing and whirled to face him. Oh, now you were getting mad. Fine. You could work with this.

"What am I talking about? What am I talking about?? He saw.....us! Now he's going to blab to everyone! My reputation will be ruined. This is so much worse for me than it is for you!" You fumed, absolutely livid, though you were also starting to tremble.

Yoongi looked taken aback by your outburst. He swiftly got to his feet, approaching you slowly. He spoke gently. "Listen, I've known Taehyung for years, trust me, he won't say anything. And even if he felt the inclination to," Yoongi looked grim. "I would beat him to within an inch of his life if he dared to even open his mouth. You're safe."

You deflated in relief, not knowing whether to feel reassured or frightened by how dead serious he was.

"I do want to ask you one thing, though." He said.

You felt a jolt at his words.

Yoongi came closer to you, and you knew that you should move back, but you couldn't.....

He came to a stop mere inches from you, breathing heavily.

Like he was holding himself back.

A shiver ran down your spine.

"Why," he whispered, "did you lean forward too?"

You opened your mouth, trying and failing to speak. His eyes looked dark, but it was almost like you could see through them. They were so open, so painfully vulnerable. Waiting, searching your gaze for an answer...

God, you had never wanted someone so desperately in your entire life. But you couldn't, you couldn't......

"It doesn't matter. This is wrong." You whispered back.

Yoongi made a low growling sound in his throat, tearing himself away with considerable effort. He fisted his hands in his hair, pacing in agitation.

"You think I don't know that?? You think I haven't been trying to hold back, even if it's the hardest thing I've ever done??"

Your eyes widened as you watched him pace. He had been holding back too?? He had.....thought about you two? In that way??

You tried to clamp down on the rush of wild joy it brought you, that he had been just as desperately miserable as you.

"What if we..." You swallowed nervously.

Yoongi stopped pacing, turning back to face you. His hair was wildly disheveled, and he looked so far from the composed image of before that it made your heart squeeze painfully. You continued, voice barely above a whisper.

"What if we just.....kept it a secret?"