Look Me In The Eye When I Tell You I Love You

No Smile Mood

Demie

The music washed over me as silk, gentle and smooth. Enchanting, it pulled me into a trance, a dream-like trance. I felt as if I was floating, higher and higher as his fingers danced over the keys. Magic, he created magic through his fingertips, dazzling and beautiful. His music was the music I hoped to create someday, music that would give people the same sensation it was giving me.

I had been playing the piano when the doorbell rang and he was there. At first, I didn't remember him. He asked me out for coffee, reminding me that I had promised to go with him some other time. Almost immediately, I remembered him coming to my house the night before- I don't know how I could've forgotten about it all day, just forget this beautiful stranger.

"I'd said 'maybe,'" I protested half-heartedly.

"Then say yes," he grinned at me as if he'd already won. He had.

We went out for coffee and had a good time, though, for the life of me, I couldn't remember what we'd talked about. He brought me back home afterwards and some conversation on my front porch, that I also didn't remember, resulted in him playing my piano.

My eyelids began to droop as he finished, his fingers going still above the keys. He looked over at me and smiled softly. "Did you like it?"He stood, coming over to me, and ran his fingers, his magical fingers, through my dark brown hair.

"It was beautiful," I yawned. "I wish I could play like that." My eyes closed for a second but I blinked them open.

"It's late and you're tired," He didn't phrase it as a question- not as if he needed to, it was pretty obvious that I was.

I blinked my eyes open, "What was it called? That piece you played?"

He scooped me up from off the couch and carried me upstairs, "It doesn't have a name yet. I just finished it today." He wrote it? Huh, a composer in my own house, who knew? He pulled back my comforter and laid me in my bed. "Maybe I'll name it after you," he smiled a little, absently playing with my hair.

I stared at him through half-closed eyes for a minute before looking away, "I'm not that amazing."

He didn't say anything to that and a little later, I guess when he thought I was asleep, he stood.

"Wait," I caught him by the arm before he turned away, fighting to stay awake, there was something I wanted to know: "Who are you?"

He may have answered but I didn't hear, I had already succumbed to darkness.

<3

They ignored me as usual, Monica and her friends, though Sierra did give me a small smile, when I sat at the lunch table. That was to be expected, the not-so-subtle put downs and dagger-like glares wouldn't start until he got here. The guys looked me over, checking me out, probably thinking horny thoughts, and wishing that they could get me in bed. I opened the Tupperware container I'd brought from home and took out a piece of pizza. It was cold but I didn't care, the line to use the microwave was too long for me to wait.

McCullough High School, the bane of my very existence. The only thing that kept me from skipping was the fact that Ian was here, and that he'd make me come anyway. I hated this place. I hated how I wasn't invisible. I hated how the teachers stared at me as if I was a pothead just because of how I dressed and looked. I hated how people would stared at me and stop talking when I walked in the room. I hated how people still remembered me from middle school. Still, all that I could deal with, as I've always dealt with them.