Keys to his heart

VI

Ever since the day at his house after the talent show, Oskar had become much more physical. When I would be teaching him piano, his side would be pressed against mine. If his hands were on his legs, they would somehow find half of themselves against my leg. Whenever we said goodbye, he would hug me tightly. If I was sarcastic to him, he would roll his eyes and ruffle my hair. He would find any excuse to make physical contact.

One morning, I was waiting for him at the piano, trying to think of something to play. I had all the energy in the world to play, but no clue of what to play. Sighing, I stood up, moving towards the rows of instrument cages. I was wondering about what it would be like to play a reed instrument when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, and something pressed against my back.

I gasped. I started struggling against the grip when the musky lavender smell hit me. I slowly calmed down, with a gentle shushing noise in my ear. I tried to slow my breathing and heart rate, assuring myself that I was not about to be kidnapped.

"Sorry," Oskar apologized, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Maybe don't sneak up on me then," I lightly scolded. "I get scared easily, especially when people just grab me."

"I'll try to announce myself beforehand next time."

As my heart rate lowered, it dawned on me how close Oskar was. Sure, we had hugged a bunch and had our fair share of physical contact, but this felt different. His arms were wrapped snugly around my waist, his warm chest was pressed against my back, and he was stooped down to rest his head on my shoulder.

My breathing started increasing again. Typically I hated physical touch. I absolutely abhorred making physical contact with anyone and everyone. Yet I didn't want Oskar to release me immediately. I didn't want to break from his grasp. I wanted to stay in it, to remain in his arms.

As if hearing but misinterpreting my thoughts, Oskar loosened his arms and pulled them away, letting me go. I let out a tiny, disappointed sigh, turning to face him. Oskar was smiling warmly, looking down at me. It occurred to me how much shorter than him I was. Sure, I had noticed it before, but it suddenly hit me that I was a full half foot smaller.

"You're tall," I commented. He laughed.

"I'm only 5'11","

"I'm 5'5", so to me that's tall."

He smiled. "Well, that just makes you perfectly pocket sized."

Heat rose in my face, making it begin to turn red. I cleared my throat, moving past him to get to the piano. I sat down at the bench and started prepping the piano when I noticed that Oskar had not moved. He stared at me from where he stood, the gears in his head visibly turning.

"What?' I asked. He slowly took steps towards the piano, hands in his pockets.

"How do you feel about taking the day off?" He asked after a moment. I furrowed my eyebrows, tilting my head.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean just not going to school today; taking the day off."

"Isn't that skipping school?"

"Not really?" He offered weakly. I opened my mouth to say no, but curiosity took over.

"Why do you want to 'take the day off?'"

"I still haven't gotten to give you the celebration for winning the talent show," He said sheepishly. "I mean, it's not a lot, and we can always do it a different time, but I just thought that maybe it would be nice to take a break from school."

I stared at him, my heart stomach out of control. He looked so awkward and sweet, smiling hopefully. It was weird to see him like this, where he was an awkward teen and not the popular soccer captain who everyone adored. It made my heart melt, seeing how cute and vulnerable he looked.