𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄, doctor strange.

Piano

                     Steven sat on the edge of the windowsill Ana had been previously sleeping at, his feet sprawled out in front of him, arms folded across his chest. The sorcerers' words from the meeting hours ago ran through his head like a book with only one sentence, and the idea was simply terrifying. Train Ana. Train the girl who had been abandoned at birth because her parents had been one of the greatest sorcerers in existence. Train Ana who was what he considered ' a friend' and teach her everything he had only just learned. He groaned, leaning his head back against the windowsill as he ran his hands over his face slowly.

                 Ana was in her room now, supposedly sleeping, though the meeting could possibly be keeping her up like it was he. Inhaling sharply through his nose, he jumped to his feet, walking to the bottom of the large stairs, where he had a view of Ana's closed door, where a small light shone under it. Wrinkling his nose, an idea popped into his head, and hesitantly he started up the stairs, stopping in front of Ana's door. Shuffling footsteps came from inside, and he bit his lip nervously before his Astro-self left his body, and he watched as in slow-motion, his body began to fall to the floor, and he looked around, his almost transparent self-floating in mid-air inside the Mirror Dimension. Smirking proudly, he pushed himself through Ana's closed door, and landed softly on the ground, aware that Ana couldn't see or hear him.

                She leaned against the far wall, her eyes red and puffy, the chocolate brown dim as a deep frown lined her face. Her arms were gripping something in front of her, and Steven whirled beside her and saw it was a picture of her parents, smiling widely with their arms around each other in an embrace. Both had brown hair, her mom's long and curly and her dad's short and brushed over. Her dad had sea blue eyes, a square pair of black glasses perched on his nose. Her mother had dark brown eyes, freckles dotting her nose. Ana stared at the picture mournfully, and Steven frowned, the emotion radiating off of Ana. She sniffled once, running a hand across her eyes quickly, before she trudged over to her bed, collapsing onto it, sitting up on the edge. She planted her face in her hands, letting out a choking sob that made Steven's heart clench. Whirling about the room, he caught sight of a clump of pictures pinned to the wall with tape and pins.

                They were profiles and drawings depicting her family and even sometimes, her, in different stages of her life, each drawn in immaculate detail. They were all black and white, and one showing her besides her parents in a cap and gown, the other of her being swung by her arms, a goofy smile on her younger face. His stomach sloshed at how much time her parents had missed and all they had failed and would fail to see. Setting his jaw tensely, he glanced back at Ana with a sympathetic expression, who was now staring straight forward at the pictures, right through Steven. She leaned over and grabbed something from under her bed, and pulled out a small case, like the shape of a thick, longboard, and clicked the locks off, pulling out a portable keyboard, its ivory keys slick and oiled nicely. Steven raised his eyebrows with surprise and impressiveness, sitting on the bed beside her, and she placed the piano carefully on her crossed legs, raising the volume. He noticed how her hand trembled, and he winced as her finger struck a wrong key that resounded harshly through the room. Then, she began to really play. 

                  She began to play a melody, one he hadn't heard in years, but which he knew by heart the specific key placements. " Time," he muttered, breathing out in surprise as her fingers deftly caressed the keys, coiling and uncoiling with immaculate precision. Each note mingling with the one before and after it, she sighed, lifting her head upwards as the sounds enveloped her, encasing her in their warm clutches of comfort and escape. Tears, reflecting across the pale moon through her window, slid down her cheeks silently, falling onto the keys below, striking them just barely to where they flinched at the contact. It was a cascade of motion, blending together into one masterpiece that befitted the perfect taste. Steven leaned, or well, his astral-form did, against the wall Ana was facing, crossing his arms across his chest in comfort and content as she continued to play, jolting with each singular staccato movement or swaying in time with the legato. He could hear her barely humming to the tune before she had even reached that note, and grinned admirably, intrigued by her such harsh, yet luring, tone of music. As she finished sharply, he smiled widely and left the room, the tune still reverberating through his ears on a never-ending playlist of song.