Armonía de Madrugada

Early Morning Harmony

He stared into the ceiling for a long time, remaining silent. He closed his eyes again, trying to go back to sleep for maybe a third time since he opened his eyes, but it was in vain. It was early morning, probably around three o'clock, and as it had been happening from time to time during that last month, he woke up startled, sweating cold.

He sat down on the bed, removing the pink strands of hair that prevented him from seeing appropriately, and threw the sheets back. Maybe going out for a night walk was not a bad idea, to clear his mind from the pile of memories that had been crowding daily, none of them clearly. Only some sensations, that were to be endearing. Stroking the back of someone's neck, kissing their lips, feeling the warmth of the opposite body at the moment of sleep... He had forgotten how strong that need of physical contact was for him, and it seemed as if this rain of memories wa trying to revive it with as much or equal strenght as in the past.

He took a deep breath before leaving the room. He did not know what he was going to do. For the last few days he had stared at the ceiling until sleep had returned, or at least until the rain of memories had ceased to torment him. But now that he was there, walking around the mansion calmly, he didn't know how to keep his mind occupied. He needed to go back to sleep.

"Maybe I'm hungry," he thought aloud, walking straight down the stairs to the kitchen.

In Otowakan the silence was even chilling at night. But for Mozart, a ClassicaLoid who seemed to have no sense of danger, was nothing special. That's why he was not surprised by the metallic rattle that came from the kitchen. On the contrary, he began to walk on tiptoe, looking for the perfect opportunity to scare anyone who was inside the room. After going down the stairs and reaching the first floor, he looked toward the kitchen, discovering that it's light was turned on, and smiling with mischief he walked straight to the door.

He opened the door with extreme care, trying not to make a sound to go unnoticed, and looking inside to see who his victim was, he saw Beethoven's tall, toned silhouette. Deep sigh; of all the people who lived in that house, he had foundd the hardest of them all. Another idiot who seemed to have no sense of danger, like him. But he shook his head, convinced that he could scare the silver-haired guy, at least a little. He walked on tiptoes until he was behind him, and after a moment's preparation, he raised his voice, shouting. "NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA."

Beethoven turned around as if it had been nothing. "Ah, it was you, Wolf," the green-eyed man said indifferently.

Mozart dropped his shoulders, surrendered. "Mooh, I knew you wouldn't be scared."

"Was I supposed to be scared?" Beethoven looked at him uncomprehendingly, lowering the flame of the kitchen, where he had a small pan.

"At least a little surprised, but it doesn't matter." The pink-haired leaned one hand on the kitchen counter, while the other lifted the lid of the small pan. From the smell, so characteristic, it was evident that the older one was preparing his favorite dish: Jet Black Harmony. But still, there was a question. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I came to prepare gyozas," replied the taller one, while preparing the dough for the mentioned snack.

"It's very much like you," said the blue-eyed, laughing slyly at the answer.

"And you?" Beethoven asked, watching him as he continued his work.

"I woke up a while ago and I got bored in the room, so I came downstairs to see if I could eat something."

"Insomnia, eh."

"Something like that, I don't know. And I don't care too much either." Mozart shrugged, dismissing the importance of the fact that he had not slept normally for several days. And all because of those memories... He shook his head, looking at his companion with a wide smile. "Hey, can I help you prepare them? The gyozas. "