Pianissimo (m. yg fanfic) ✔

♬ 3

- 𝓱𝓲𝓶 -

"to learn music is to learn a whole new language"

Navigating through the intricacies of their first week of piano lessons, he finds his patience stretched a little thin. Firstly, she manages to arrive at least five minutes late almost every single day. Technically, it's not even that big of a deal, but Yoongi has always prided himself on his punctuality.

Now a pretty girl with big eyes and gorgeous hair is messing up his entire system.

Secondly, she's never played a note in her life and her inexperience is as evident as the morning sun. Which is to be expected from a beginner, but somehow she manages to butcher literally every single task he assigns her to.

As he guides her through the basics, he can't help but feel a growing frustration bubbling within him. This is turning out to be more than he bargained for, and it's only week one.

Her fingers fumble awkwardly over the keys for the millionth time today, and he bites the tip of his tongue to suppress a sigh. The piano, an old friend to him, seems like an alien object to her. Her attempts at pressing the right notes are met with discordant sounds that grate against his ears, a stark reminder of how far she has to go. He doesn't think he's ever come across someone this bad at piano before.

She looks up at him, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her pink lips. It's a genuine smile, innocent and unguarded. Yet, it manages to irritate him more than he'd like to admit. How can she be so cheerful amidst such clumsy attempts?

"Am I getting it right?" she asks, and he watches her big brown eyes sparkle with anticipation. She's like a puppy, eager for praise - something he's picked up over the last week or so. He rests his chin on his palm, trying to think of a positive way to tell her.

"Not quite," he replies curtly, his words sharp but tone gentle. She looks momentarily deflated, and a pang of guilt shoots through him. Maybe he should've gone for something more...enthusiastic?

But just as quickly as the hurt expression appeared on her face, just as quickly it disappears. "It's okay," she says, rolling her shoulders back. "Practice makes perfect, doesn't it?"

A small laughs escapes him when she says that, finding her determination slightly hilarious. As much as she's struggling to play Do, Re, Mi on the keys, he truly does admire her determination. If only she was that determined to arrive at lessons on time...

As the day's lesson continues, her hands remain a tangle of uncertainty. Her brows knit together in concentration, trying her best to play the sequence correctly. He watches as she tries to mimic his instructions, but he notices that her movements lack the fluidity that accompanies practice and familiarity.

More than that, her shoulders and fingers are stiff as she tries to play. That won't do.

"You're too tight," he says, hand absentmindedly resting on her palms that are resting on the keys. "Try to loosen up, to feel the notes through your fingertips."

A small gasp escapes her lips when his fingers come into contact with hers, but she covers it up with a small nod before taking a deep breath. Her hair, tied once more in the unsteady bun, allows for a few stray locks to frame her face. It makes her look even more adorable, but Yoongi pretends not to notice.

"I can do that," she says, nodding again. "I can loosen up." But she does anything but, now even more tense than before.

Yoongi lets out a sigh, standing up from the stool. She stops playing, looking at him with wide eyes. "Did I do something wrong again?" she asks, sounding sad.

He doesn't want her to be sad. Learning the piano isn't easy, but he has no intention of discouraging her.

If he does that, she might go find another, more patient teacher. And if she does, he loses the money. He can't have that.

So, he takes another calming breath before situating himself behind her, leaning over her shoulders. His arms envelop hers, his neck hovering right next to her ear. He doesn't know this, but her breath is definitely caught in her throat.

"Relax," he says, voice a husky whisper now. He knows this is probably not the best way to be teaching her, but he doesn't know how else to rid of her tension. "And allow the notes to flow through you."

She wants to nod, he can tell, but she doesn't. Instead, she tries again, slowly flying her fingers over the ivories. His gaze is locked on her manicured fingers gliding, mimicking everything he's taught her so far.

To his surprise, she manages to play notes that don't make his eardrums hurt. A gummy smile of satisfaction settles on his face when she finishes, happy to know that his unorthodox strategy worked.

Granted, this is nowhere near where she's supposed to be, but it's better than what she's done all week. He feels a mixture of satisfaction and exasperation - a strange dichotomy that has yet to find its equilibrium.

"Good," he says, now locking eyes with her big brown eyes. "Good."

♬♬♬