tell me ➝ n.h.

intro

"If my red eyes don't see you anymore, and I can't hear you, through the white noise, just send your heartbeat, I'll go." 

-

Hello, there! 

Just wanted to clarify some things before we begin this tale of admiration.

This is an AU (Alternate Universe) story, which means that everything is fictional. If there happens to be an event that occurred in real life that was described ridiculously similar to anything in this book, it's merely coincidental. I've done research to back these words up with valid information, but if I mess something up, I do apologize. I'm only humian. 

With that being said, I worked really hard on this, and I hope that you find a little part of your heart to enjoy this little thing! 

// Oh and one more thing! Words that are in bold italics represent dialogue in sign language. //

Love you guys, 

Ian 

- 

“This is- yes, John, that’s correct. This is the eighth note, and further down is the...” Mr. Harvey’s english accent is thick as he draws the notes on the board, discussing the different notes and how to draw them. 

I switch glances from my notebook to the board, writing down important points. “Did you get your textbook yet?” I whisper towards my seat mate, not looking over. Not getting an answer, I turn my head towards her. My body slumps.  

“Great, that’s cool too. You have a little,” I begin to whisper to the girl, her face plastered to the table. “A little… drool right there-” 

“Are there any other questions?” Mr. Harvey asks, jolting me back to my natural seating position, my seat mate waking up. “If not, I’ll see you next week. Enjoy your weekend,” his words echo the room as the students ruffle their bags, packing up to go to their next classes. 

As the students exit the room, I approach Mr. Harvey with a smile present on my face. “Hi, Mr. Harvey. I was wondering if you were still able to give piano lessons?” I ask politely, my hands resting on either side of my backpack. “Yes, I am. You’ll have to be a music minor though,” He responds with a grin, packing up his own belongings. 

“I really want to learn how to play,” I take a deep sigh, remembering that I still had to audition to be a music minor. I needed to sing two broadway songs and I was beyond nervous. To make things worse, I still didn’t have anyone to accompany me on the piano. 

My gaze fell on the score that was rested on Mr. Harvey’s desk. It was Faure’s Quartet No. 1. I subconsciously flip through the pages, finding the fourth movement. “Have you heard this before?” He asks, walking up next to me. “Nope. I don’t think I have,” I respond.

I look over the notes, and even if I can’t really read them, I can tell that it’s a precise yet sophisticated piece. “Did you want to hear it? My student’s not due till 10 minutes from now, I believe,” he offers. “He’s my top student. He’s truly gifted,” he continues, and a smile appears across my face. “Yes, please. Only if it’s not too much for you, of course,” he waves my statement off, taking the score and walking over to the piano in the classroom, placing the score in front of him. 

“Would you mind turning the pages for me, though? I’ll nod as a signal.” He says, adjusting his seat. I nid in agreement, excitedly waiting for the sound to flow from the strings in the piano. As he plays the first note, the door opens, and a tall blonde boy walks in. He looks like one of those fraternity boys, with that  snapback on. I’d say he was lost, probably walked into the wrong classroom. Before I could say anything, Mr. Harvey speaks up. 

“Mr. Horan! You’re early today.” He speaks to the boy at the door. I tilt my head, a little confused, because he didn’t look like a person who would give two shits about classical music. He looks at me, and I look away, feeling my cheeks warm up. 

He caught me staring. Great. Just great.  

I wanted to come and practice a little early. Sorry if I’m interrupting something. I can leave. 

 I was taken aback instantly.

He’s using sign language.  

“No, no. That’s alright. Since you’re here, maybe you could play this piece for one of my students?” Mr. Harvey asks, gesturing to me. He nods and smiles at me, walking over to take Mr. Harvey’s spot at the piano. “James, this is Sia, Sia, James.”

We wave at each other in unison, it’s an awkward greeting, but it was inevitable. 

“You can hear?” I ask politely, and I immediately regret it because no matter how polite I tried to question him, I sounded dumb and obnoxious.

He nods. 

“He just doesn’t talk.” Mr. Harvey completes, smiling. 

Would you like me to turn the pages? I ask, causing him to break into a soft smile, realizing that I know sign language. 

James nods and places his fingers on the keys.

He takes a moment to shut his eyes. 

When he starts playing, all the knowledge I had of any sensible thing was immediately replaced by a shock of euphoria, and it was ridding me of my ability to breathe.

-- 

a/n: hiiii hope you guys liked it! 

vote and comment and things if you like :) 

ian x