He waited, perhaps how the moon waited for the sun.
And I chose to ask more of it-of the ceaseless hope we held in our palms. "Give me tonight, please."
"You've got tonight." It was an effortless sentence. A string of words spelling assurance, settl...
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"LAST I CHECKED,I WAS FREE TO MOVE ANYWHERE IN THE SCHOOL WITHOUT YOUR PERMISSION."
The universe knew how to answer my prayers.
He was the last person I had expected to find. With a great bedlam of instruments and an even chaotic number of chairs that lay in front of my vision, he played the guitar like he was blind to the other things in the room. I kept chanting in my brain—he cannot be related to music, let alone guitar—but then again, I didn't even know his name.
The jealousy which bubbled in my chest, however, was venom at the tip of my tongue. I could've been like that too—happily playing the instrument I tied my sanity to—only if it didn't have copious memories wound into a painful loop. If the prick at the heart once decided to cease, and the incessant nightmares that threaded into my conscious found a way to untangle themselves from this disarray, I could.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I met his once again: iridescent and magnificent and all-too overwhelming. The only thing I could decipher from a good distance was that I had never seen a person with eyes of the ocean.But just because he was a God's favorite didn't mean he could let me throw away my self-respect, so I averted my gaze and stared at the piano itself.
Piano was, indeed, a tough competition to him.
My hands trailed on it when I walked closer, creating a series of random notes which floated into the thin air. Something about the piano was majestic, and it forever remained as an instrument I would've wanted to learn in a heartbeat.The tug of my lips was unconscious and potent when I averted my attention from all the instruments present to the one being played. Finger picking, my thoughts went berserk, downright beautiful.
Enthralling would've been an understatement.
I stared at his head from the back, fiddling with the fiber of the cotton t-shirt that now stuck to me like mulberry paper. "You, uh, play the guitar really well; I didn't think you were into music."
He laughed.
He laughed like I was pulling up a whole stand-up comedy for him. He laughed."Yeah, and you just met me for the first time today. Surprising, isn't it?"
"Is that how you generally take compliments? Because it's very rude," I was trying—and it seemed like he was just not worth it.
He didn't even bother to speak after that. Fury seethed through my veins and constrained my throat until I was meters away from slamming the door onto his face. Anger due to the heat of the moment was one thing—and being unapologetically rude was another. I tried to ignore the heat of the stare he provided when I had lifted back to my feet, but the arch of his eyebrows told me I had failed.
"What's your name?"
"You don't even know my name?"
The amount of doubt his voice held made me stifle a chuckle. "Was I supposed to?"
