Stockholm Syndrome // sm

Chapter Seven

I woke up to the sound of a piano being played. The melody wasn't familiar by any means, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

I stood up, pulling the hoodie I had on around me tighter as I walked across the soft carpeted bedroom. The cold, unforgiving wooden floorboards of the hallway made me whine silently, and they got back at me by squeaking loudly.

"Jennifer?"

"Don't stop on my account." I whispered, seeing him playing the large grand piano. He hesitated, lightly pressing the gleaming keys, a blue-ish white light illuminating his figure and bouncing off of the wonderful instrument.

I hugged myself as I listened, my heart beat in my throat as I watched him silently. I was by no means a professional musician, in fact I have little to no experience with any instruments, but I could tell he was nervous under my gaze.

"What song is that?"

"I like to think the title "Annabel Lee" is perfect." He replied gently. Even though his face was hidden, the result of curtains blocking the light from reaching his skin, I could feel him looking at me.

"Like the poem by Edgar Allan Poe?" I acknowledged and he gave a soft nod of the head. I wasn't the best with literature, but I had just recently became invested in classic poetry.

He hummed, his fingers running against the keys. "Exactly like the poem." He confirmed, playing more keys more frequently. "And neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons down under the sea, can ever dissever my soul from the soul, of the beautiful Annabel Lee..."

His voice was more medolic than the piano, and I hate to say it, and I'll never admit it aloud, but I wish I could listen to him recite the poem over and over again. I found myself enjoying this much more than I should, given our current situation.

I must be out of my mind, I thought, mentally sighing as I leaned against the wall that separated the staircase from the living room.

I resisted the urge to walk forward, which would make me feel less like a creep. Naturally, I felt inclined to get a closer look at what he was doing, and listen to the piano even louder. I refused to do so however. My cold feet stayed planted on the floor, though they were fully capable of moving.

I yawned softly, shutting my eyes as a wave of sleepiness hit me. "Are you tired?" Shawn's voice rang, the keys of his piano ringing out to oblivion.

"Barely."

I doubt he believed me as another yawn ripped its way from my throat. He chuckled, a light and airy laugh, and I rubbed my eyes, watching as his shoulders shook. "You sure there?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Come here." He suggested, scooting over on the black bench he was on. I knew he could feel my hesitation because he chuckled ever so softly quietly. "You don't have to. I'd just like to ignore the elephant in the room."

"It's pretty big."

"You'll come to realize that absolutely nothing is too big to ignore." He hummed, his fingers dancing on the keys before pressing them down.

I slowly peeled my body from the wall, the fluffy white carpet engulfing my feet with a warmth they so desperately needed. I was reluctant to sit beside him, but I did anyways.

Our shallow breaths mixed, our bodies at a closer proximity than one would assume I'd like. With each movement of his fingers, his arms flexed and pulsed, and I could feel each small muscle against my own arm. "Tell me about them."

"Who?"

"Them."

His answer didn't help. He laughed when he noticed my confusion, looking at me while his hands continued pressing the keys on the beautiful grand piano. "Your family. Tell me about them." He clarified finally, and I blushed in embarassment for not getting it the first time around.