the violin idiot ✩ k. tsukishima x fem!oc

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

The girl stood alone, staring out from the hill as twilight embraced the horizon. Something about the golden hues settling down to sleep gave her a rush of nostalgia. Looking at the sunset, she was slowly reminded of the tedious hours she had spent on this very hill, trying to perfect a piece she had been practicing for the past year. She muttered a curse and glared at her left hand which was clamped over the neck of her violin.

She raised her violin back beneath her chin and closed her eyes.

The start was always easy. Her fingers danced along the fingerboard masterfully as her bow arm executed precise, intense strokes. Each note was captured accurately with little difficulty.

Her melody had a vibrant quality to it, producing such a bright and clear sound. Her torso swayed slightly in the rise and fall of the melody. As the piece progressed, the violinist grit her teeth, yelling at herself internally not to mess up the next section.

She continued on.

The sweet intonation she was able to achieve was starting to fade as she instead favoured accuracy. Her violin squeaked. Her bow strokes started to intensify and her sound grew fierce. It was chaotic and electrifying. The sound vibrated in her very essence.

The fluidity and grace she had once possessed was dwindling.

And yet even with her stormy sound, there was a mesmerizing quality to it. The intensity and sheer perseverance intrigued him.

-'♡'-

The boy watched from the bottom of the hill, white headphones placed around his neck. From his perspective, all he could see was a long-haired figure playing violin. He couldn't make out anything distinct. He probably could have gone up the hill to talk to this person but he was too enchanted by her melody.

Music was a place of solace for him. He found comfort in the way he could control the sounds he listened to. It granted him a sense of control over his own feelings since music had such a profound effect on him. Honestly, he had become somewhat of a music snob with how picky he had become with what he listened to. Now, he was faced with an unsolicited sound, one that he found himself perplexed by, yet strangely desperate for it to persist.

He heard a bit from the start, but was indifferent to the typical melody of a violin until the shift in the sound captured his attention. The unsettling quality of the music captivated him, carrying an intense desperation. The melody seemed to yearn for a return to its former radiance, weaving a beautiful, rich darkness that resonated deeply with him. 

Waves of sorrow crashed over him, leaving his heart gasping for air. The feeling was hauntingly familiar, a long-buried emotion he had once locked away but could not forget. She was a siren, and he was a sailor, willing to venture through chaotic storms for her song. 

Suddenly, he heard the violin squeak again, followed by a resounding, "FUCK"

He was taken aback and worried for a second that she might throw her violin, but instead, he saw her packing it up. He was still a bit unsettled that it took him a moment to process what had just happened. He suddenly noticed the hot tears he felt on his face. He removed his glasses to wipe away the tears. His head span like he just got whiplash from the experience. 

When he put his glasses back on, the girl had slipped away. His cold gaze lingered on the hill where she once stood.

"Tch..."

She truly was a tempest. One whose melody would haunt him more than he could know.