❝Quand il me prend dans ses bras, il me parle tout bas, je vois la vie en rose.❞ -Édith Paraf, La Vie en Rose
"Cam told me to give this to you," Noah hands me a small chocolate bar. "He says you'll know what it means."
I can't help but smile as I grab the small chocolate bar from Noah. Cam is too cute.
"Your brother is going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up," I muse. "He's already got the charm."
"It also helps that he's rich," Noah says, amused. "My dad and Mabel together make more than enough money."
"What do they do?"
"They work at a record label," Noah, now with a t-shirt on, walks down to the basement. "Mabel's a talent scout and my dad's one of the managers. It's where they met."
I follow him downstairs. "That explains a lot."
Noah flicks on the light and I catch his expression. He looks so blissful, an emotion I have never seen him wear before. His grin is soft and nostalgic while his hazel eyes glimmer with happiness.
In the basement is everything related to music: plaques, records, microphones, instruments, awards, photographs with celebrities and even a large soundboard.
I used to play piano when I was younger. I hadn't liked it at first; my parents had forced me into it, but now I wish I had stuck through it. The piano in the corner of the room had been flipped open, with sheets of incredibly difficult songs laid out on it. It would be nice to be able to play an instrument well.
"I'm not much of a musician, but I do love music," Noah says, admiring the room around him. "Dad sometimes gets a bunch of exclusive albums or demos from artists. It makes finding new music easy."
Noah sits down at the piano and begins playing an intricate piece that I recognize to be clair de la lune. The song progresses to become more heavenly and I can't help but marvel at his talent.
"You're not much of a musician?" I ask skeptically.
"There's a lot to compare to," Noah explains with a shrug. "I'm just a boy who's been learning piano since he was eight."
Noah gets up from the piano, putting away the mess of music and shutting the top. Noah makes his way to the computer and begins scrolling through the seemingly endless playlist. There are several playlists, all with uniquely beautiful titles.
Noah puts on a song and the familiar starting chord of "La Vie en Rose" by Édith Piaf begins playing.
"I love this song." I remark and begin to sing the French lyrics. Despite not even understanding the lyrics, I can tell they are beautiful.
"It's Mabel's favourite song, so my dad always has a version of it around the house."
"Is Mabel French?" I ask, remembering her accent.
"Yes, she helped a lot when I was going out with Amelia," a reminiscent smile appears on Noah's face. "That was the only time I ever really talked to her. I've only just recently begun opening up again."
"I'm glad, she seems sweet."
"She really is." Noah offers me a breathtaking smile. "Dance with me."
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Falling in Love
Teen Fiction❝I never used to believe in soulmates, but now I find myself questioning every thought I once had about love. It was almost as though love was too weak a word for what I felt for him, that perhaps soulmate is indeed the correct term. Perhaps every s...
