The Piano

The Piano

Zafyrra's long, dainty fingers loomed over the white keys as she tried to figure out the chord progression for the grand finale of the composition that she has been working on for weeks. Alongside, unevenly timed chord progression, a cry of frustration echoed through the music room.

She had been stuck on the very same bar for the past two weeks now. With the due date around the corner, she can't help but get frustrated that the dream of a perfect cadence is slipping away from her hands. Her very last assignment in her very last semester and this had to happen.

Zafyrra's laments were cut short by a curt knock on the heavy, oak door followed by a deep, gravelly voice.

"Excuse me, Ms.; but, I booked the piano room from 2 p.m. onward."

She had had enough on her plate and this just adds to her never-ending misery. Absentmindedly, she replied, "I'm so sorry, sir; but, just give me another...10-15 minutes while I wrap this composition. This is really important to me. Please try to understand. I'm extremely sorry for encroaching your practice session."

"Hmm. My dear, Zaf."

Zafyrra immediately froze upon hearing that nickname.

No one calls her that except...

No! It can't be him! She refused to accept nor admit that he was standing right behind of her, technically speaking, in flesh.

Arman Fernandez.

Her worst nightmare stood right behind her looking sinfully dashing in a pair of dress pants and dress shirt paired with black loafers.

"Arman." Zafyrra merely whispered.

She can't believe that after all these years her heart still beats erratically upon seeing this empyrean, moss green-eyed mortal. She could still feel the ghost of his touch, his feathery soft touch against her slightly untoned body.

As the stars begin illuminating the dark, night sky every day, she could feel his fingers pressing against her skin as if he was playing the piano. She felt like a grand piano, having its keys played by a skillful pianist, producing beautiful melodies.

His very own piano.

Arman's hearty laugh brought Zafyrra out of her reverie.

"What do you want, Arman?" She snapped.

"I'm afraid to burst your little bubble, sweetheart, but it's Dr. Fernandez to you." Arman articulated.

"Why you crafty little jizzmonger." Zafyrra sneered in accusation.

"Now, now. Hold your horses, Zaf. That's no way to talk to a professor. What happened to the manners that your parents nurtured and instilled you with?" Arman took dangerously long strides towards Zafyrra.

"You're the one to be talking about manners. The one who left me without an explanation. Don't you even dare to even talk about manners, Arman, cause you clearly lack them."

Zafyrra felt his hands bunching her luscious inky black locks to the side. Her thoughts went haywire and into a frenzy as she felt Arman's mind-numbing scent right behind her.

"What are you working on, Zaf?" His voice was all husky. "Ahh. Working on the cadence of your final piece, but it seems that you're stuck on your cadence. Hmm. I think I can help you with that."

Zafyrra's ears perked at Arman's offer. Sure, this was cheating in so many ways and she may get disqualified for dishonest practice, but she was curious as to what Arman had in his mind. He may be a shitty person, but that PhD spoke volumes about his skills as pianist.