"who am i to you?" i whispered to him.
maybe I was a fool for even asking. because I knew what he'd respond before the words had even left my mouth.
"no one," he replied a beat later, not a hint of hesitation in his cold voice. his eyes betrayed no...
a secret place of refuge or retreat, where you do not wanna be found
• chapter two • only fools
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IN MY DREAMS, I always appeared with a piano. It didn't matter where I was; I could be playing in front of a large audience, at a concert recital in town, at home in front of my family and friends, or even in a dark room to a boy I've only met once. That's when I'm the happiest, unconditionally.
Of course, academic subjects meant a lot to me too. I was so gifted at school that my friends in Seoul assumed I wanted to become a doctor when we first met; before they've gotten to know me on a deeper level. I did want to. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been here in Chaegu academy where they formed - as they put it - important people to society such as doctors and lawyers. However, music was my little secret.
My fingers skillfully flew on the piano tiles like they were executing a perfect dance. I had practiced some musical pieces so many times that I knew them by heart and could play them without a single false note even with my eyes closed.
I was so absorbed in my own music that I entirely forgot a spectator watched me by the sidelines.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" I asked the fountain boy as I glanced by my side and saw him looking at me with a thoughtful expression.
When he didn't reply, I stopped playing the piano and peered at him for a second longer from my bench, merely to examine him in peace. He was sitting backwards on a wooden chair at a few meters from me, his legs dwindling from either sides of the chair, and looked absolutely untouchable with his perfect face, navy turtleneck, and black shiny boots. How could he dress so well while my closet consisted of twenty different shades of hoodies?
"Play something else," he requested in an assured voice - like he was confident that I would listen to him.
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him and gave him a glare. "Why? Did you not like what I was playing?"
His dark brown eyes drifted around the room like he didn't know how to reply to my question. When he finally made up his mind, he went with what seemed like the truth. "I did like it. I just wanted to hear you play more."
Oh. So he was a smooth-talker.
I laughed a little and shook my head. "I was going to play a piece I've composed next but now that you requested it in such a way, I don't want to anymore."
"Hmm?" The black-haired boy raised an eyebrow, suddenly twisting his legs away from the chair to stride toward me. He stopped beside the piano and lowered his eyes to gaze at me properly. "Play it then. Pretend I'm not here."
He then swiftly stepped behind me, hiding completely from my peripheral vision.
I stared at the piano in front of me and sighed. "I can still see your shadow on the ground. Doesn't help that this room is dimly hit, huh? Maybe you should just leave the room."
