Reach out for the Sun [UsUk]

Ten: Sooner or Later, the Fire Dies Down

"Ah, bloody hell! I'm terrible at this!"

"You gotta relax your hand, but tighten the grip at the same time."

"L-like this? This is difficult... And it also kind of hurts..."

"Yes, it always does at first. You're doing great! Now put your fingers here. Good, just like that."

"I think this just isn't for me, Alfred."

Arthur sighed, laughing as he followed the American's instructions on how to hold that damned string instrument of his, as if Alfred expected him to be an expert on the violin the first time he ever held it in his hands. It was a bit difficult, and his left arm already got tired of staying up for three minutes. After all, he was a writer, not a violinist. He usually worked kept his arms down - although, his right hand was as equally trained to hold a quill or a pen as Alfred's was to hold a bow. But Alfred insisted for them to relax their minds a little, and he almost begged on his knees to teach the other how to play. So Arthur couldn't just say no that easily.

"You're doing great, shut up." The younger man rolled his eyes with a loving expression on his face, and softly took Arthur's hand to show him how to properly hold the bow. "Though you are holding it like a five year old... Like me when I first started how to play. Oh, I remember the teacher shouting at me, she was from Texas, and her southern accent was so funny to me that I'd just start to laugh. And then she would laugh, too. Anyway, I'm getting off topic, aren't I?"

The Brit just listened, experimentally sliding the bow over one of the strings just to see how it would sound. 

And it must had been the absolute worst sound he had ever heard. 

"Why does it screech?!" He asked with a mortified expression, and Alfred burst into hysterical laughter, placing his hands over his ears from the painful sound. That had to wake up Matthew in the other room for sure. Not that he'd actually admit that to the two.

"Ah, well that's both your fault and mine. Yours because that's not how you hold the fucking thing, and mine because, well, I kind of forgot to rosin the bow." The American let out another high pitched chuckle and took the instrument from the other's hands. 

"You forgot to what the bow?"

"Rosin! That's the smooth thing that I gotta slide over the hair a few times so that screech doesn't happen again. Sometimes when I don't put any, the violin doesn't make any sound at all. Man, I don't know how I could have forgotten to do it. Again."  As he spoke, he took out a box about two inches wide from the violin case, opening it and gliding it over the bow approximately five times. That's exactly how he had been taught. Even though most of the time, he would zone out while doing it and end up having thirty layers of rosin everywhere and sticky strings later on. And that took ages to clean.

Arthur watched the boy's every movement completely in confusion - this was all very new to him, he  had never seen the close up of a violin before, and seeing someone do all the preparation before playing was just plain strange. "Ah, I-I see." He tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "How about you play, and I listen? That way we have no deafening sounds but we do get nice music. A-also... I'd love to hear you play."

Shaking off the excess rosin from the bow, Alfred nodded with a slight bit of hesitation, and took the violin from Arthur's gentle hold. "Sure. Anything specific you'd like to hear?"

"Well..." The Englishman averted his gaze to the side. "The first night we met, you told me you write songs as well as play the violin. May I hear an original, please?"

"Oh god, uh, okay, um, don't hate me if it's terrible." Alfred laughed breathily, positioning the instrument on his left shoulder and the bow in his right hand. "Let's go for it, huh?" He flashed Arthur a grin and closed his eyes, immediately becoming one with the music he produced. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea to hand him the instrument not long after he had experienced a deadly amount of pain, but neither of them cared at the moment. They were both lost in the atmosphere.