Martini Kisses (epistolary) ✔️

n a r r a t i v e (exclusive)

Kai hears it before he sees it—the loneliness, the heartbreak.

The gentle sound of the piano reaches his ears before he even gets to completely open the door. It's coming from the mini library which he'd now turned into a music room for her. To give her a place where she can be comfortable, a home within the home he gave her.

Initially, he'd wanted to surprise her. She doesn't know he's coming home early, that he did his best to come straight to her as fast as he could, because he knew.

Something was wrong.

And Milly wouldn't tell him, but it's like his heart is already so well connected with hers that he doesn't need any more words to confirm what she's feeling.

He just knows.

His heart knows.

Softly, he strides closer to the sound, careful not to make any noise and give away his presence. Milly left the door slightly open and the gap was big enough to see her back facing toward him, her fingers moving up and down the piano in a graceful dance. Her left hand plays the lower notes in a steady harmony as the right hand becomes almost weightless, building and running the melody in a beautiful arpeggio that seems to tell an untold message. Every key pressed adds solemnity to the song, a kind of insistent and lonely tugging that he hasn't heard in any of her music before even when she just recently released an album full of sad songs.

He doesn't recognize this piece either from any of the recitals and shows she has that he's seen before.

This is the first time he's seeing her play the piano, and he's not sure what to feel about it now that he has.

Especially in this situation when he knows it's a result of something else.

Closer to the sound now, Kai feels it stronger. The lulling wave of loneliness, of pain and disappointment, rising and pouring out from her hands with such softness that it makes him ache quite uncomfortably. It cuts, knowing that there's nothing he can do to take the pain away.

And it cuts even more because he knows it's different from all the other times. Milly has sworn off the piano already — and if she's back to it...

Kai steps away from the door and hides again. He doesn't want her to think that he caught her at a vulnerable time, a time probably meant only for herself, a time he's not sure she's willing to share with anyone just yet.

He doesn't want her to know that he's listening, afraid that she will never approach the piano again if she realizes someone heard.

He leaves the suite before she concludes the piece and only returns when a certain time has passed and the sound of the piano has ceased. He doesn't know how long he stayed outside, just that he's itching to do something.

Anything.

For her.

Eleven, she told him, not knowing that by doing so, she's managed to touch parts of him that he didn't even know needed healing.

He wishes he has that too — her natural flair to love everyone without reservations, so he can love parts of her that she thought didn't need any more care and affection, too.

He wants to do that for her, but he doesn't know how. He can only love her in the way he knows how.

Quietly, steadfastly.

Milly's already in the kitchen, putting the milk back in the refrigerator, when he finds her.

Kai doesn't wait for her to notice him this time. Immediately, he wraps his arms around her slender frame and presses his cheek to the side of her head.