may shatter on impact (tronnor)

64. Little Things & Whispered Smiles

"What's your music project?" Connor asks as we hide ourselves away in the practice room during music class.

"I'm writing a song."

He sighs, taking a bite of a bagel he brought, not having had time for breakfast. "Ugh, yours is going to be great, isn't it?"

I laugh, taking my place at the piano. "It's going to suck. What're you doing?"

"I have no idea. It's not due for a while, though, so I guess I have time. I don't know, really. I can't sing. Or play any instruments."

"Well come on, I thought I was teaching you piano. Or did you give up on that?"

"I guess I'm going to have to learn something in this class. You might as well teach me," he muttered, sitting next to me. "What're we learning today?"

"One Direction." He nods, watching me as I begin to sing, my fingers dashing across the keys. "Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me, but bear this in mind, it was meant to be..."

Connor watches me, his eyes traveling away from my fingers and to my eyes, my lips, the blush on my cheeks, the sound of my voice carried through the air.

"And I'm joining up the dots with the freckles on your cheeks, and it all makes sense to me. I know you've never loved the crinkles by your eyes when you smile, you've never loved your stomach or your thighs, the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine, but I'll love them endlessly."

Connor smiles, studying every line on my face, the little details no one else notices, the concentration as I sang. The bell rings in the middle of the song, but as Connor tangles his fingers in mine, I know he doesn't mind.

"You should sing more," he says as we leave, the whisper of a smile at the edges of his mouth, the beat of my heart speeding up as we walk down the hallway and join the crowd.