[BL] Sounds Of The Heart (Rewrite)

Prologue: To Live Again

< A/N It's from Chapter 3 onwards where most of the changes to the story happen. I've also changed some story details in the first few chapters such as Lily/Bǎihé's escape, more minor characterization, and alluded to a few more things! Sorry for the long wait but I overhauled the whole story and I don't regret it. It flows much better now. I'm going to try to get a proper schedule but I also have another book in the works so ehh. Thank you for reading my story!>

A ringing in his ear woke him, a jarring sound he would have hated normally but loved so fiercely in this moment. He slits open weary starry emeralds eyes to stare at blurry red curtains, lifting a hand to push at the gauzy material before letting his hand drop exhausted.

Getting stabbed sucks.

Did that psycho manage to save me?

It comes to him slow, the thought and he manages to drag together some semblance of energy and roll himself off the soft bed he's on. It didn't occur to him to catch himself before he hit the floor, breath knocked out lungs and biting ruddy lips. His lids shutter in face of pain, teeth ripping already bruised lips apart as he shudders and gasps.

How can he forget he's injured? Stupid!

White floods his vision and he feels a moment of weightlessness before the pain fades and his vision fixes itself. He takes in several shaky breath in turn.

After whiting out, Lily realizes something is wrong. It is not only how his body aches as if he competed in a 200 yard dash on 2 hours of sleep and his neck feels like someone took a cow prod to it but how he's in an ancient eastern room he can't remember entering. He groans weakly, massaging his temples trying to remember anything to distract his mind.

He wasn't a famous painter, but he had a small and loyal following because his works are known to be expressive and exquisite. He enjoyed drawing out the world as he sees it through his ears since he was born with synesthesia.

His tag was 'Bǎihé' chinese for his namesake Lily. His fans would draw him a cute star with a lily wreath when they sent fan gifts.

However, he was much more well known for his musical ability, having the ability to play and master any instrument in minutes and blessed with absolute pitch. Called a musical prodigy at the tender age of 5 when he won multiple music awards with a different instrument each time.

He loves music before he knew what it was, when notes sung in his ears as people spoke or birds chirped and leaves rustled. All of it is music to his ears blessed by absolute pitch and his mind.

At 9 he was a household name that could be considered a God of Music until he stopped entering concerts and competitions. He wasn't interested in becoming famous, he only loved music and so he started to play only for himself. To enjoy.

At ten he had learned about art and it took into his heart with the same fervor music did. Lines bleeding into purple arrogance and charming pink love, humble green confidence and desperate yellow. His mind unable to stop. His works full of people drawn in certain colors revealing how he sees them. At the point of ignoring conventional means and refusing black and white painting, he found out not everyone heard the world like he did. His mind is rewired a bit differently so instead of just hearing sounds, he sees color with it.

He had liked composing music using his two quirks.

By 13 he decided to learn something else to pass the time, struggling for days on how to decide before his mother offered to teach him how to cook. He knew she wanted to bond with him so he agreed. He wasn't a sociable child and while he knew his parents loved him dearly, he regretfully didn't know how to act cute. His mother complained that he was so talented and pretty but had the temperament of a glacier. His father laughed whenever she brought it up, pointing out that was what she was like before they fell in love.

Lily loved them dearly. So much that even though he wasn't very good at speaking, he tried other ways to show them. Playing them music inspired by them and drawing them pictures. They loved it with tears in their eyes.

So he learned cooking from mother and it was fun and relaxing, bursts of music coming together on the pan and sizzling colors mixing in his head. He found a new love. He dove into it with a passion and practiced and practiced until he was good no better than his mother, driven by musical food.

Around 15 he learned from his father gardening. It was slow and soothing in a way that music and painting wasn't, unbothered and tranquil in a way cooking wasn't. He dove into it as well. He couldn't help it.

He thinks he was at his happiest. Unfortunately the good never stays.

At 22, he was kidnapped by a psychotic man with the voice of an angel.

His name was Bái Wēi. He was 19 at the time and Lily had thought he was a simple fan. He had been ignoring the warning signs from the beginning. Bái Wēi had the most alluring voice. With a smooth lilt and musicality he found hard to ignore. But it also unnerved him. Haunting and eerie like a predator hunting a prey.

He ignored it. His love for music pushing it to the side.

Bái Wēi spoke in flashes of domineering purple the color shaded with his mood. Lily, a bit unnerved by the color, pushed that aside as well like the still blaring warning sign until he couldn't anymore. He …was kidnapped.

Bái Wēi was obsessed with him and after the kidnapping he found out why he found that domineering purple unnerving, it wasn't purple. It was black. Somehow Bái Wēi hid himself so deeply it concealed that color writhing within him. Oddly enough, that terrified Lily.

He was locked up in a isolated house away from his family and friends, somewhere surrounded by trees and wildlife. Stuck with an obsessively psychopathic lovestruck Bái Wēi who was terrifying when he kind and horrifying when he was cruel. Lily couldn't hate that man too fearful it would be noticed and Bái Wēi would punish him.

Thankfully it was never physical. Bái Wēi refused to hit him, content with depriving him of certain luxuries instead. Lily didn't like it but was okay with it. Better than being physically abused.

Time passed and ten years went by. He was 32 and less terrified and more cold and numb, but still desperate to escape. The only reason he hadn't given up was the music tickling his ear and blocking some of Bái Wēi's influence in his heart and mind, soft muted colors shielding his eyes and distracting him when it became too much. He became so thankful of his gifts.

Still what must come did. He had plotted and planned in those ten years, obeying Bái Wēi until the man let down his guard then he drugged him and ran.

It should be obvious what happened next. Surrounded by forest not knowing the way, he was caught and dragged back kicking and screaming. And Bái Wēi.…

…he ruined my ears…

…he made me deaf…

…it was silent...

…so silent…

And I…

I…

…I snapped...

…I hated him…

He took from me my love, my lifeline and I was screaming at him till my voice grew hoarse. I can't remember what I screamed. All I can remember was the silence and his stricken face. I wished I was dead. Stuck in a silent abyss that dragged me down.

How dare he. How dare he! HOW DARE HE!! How dare he steal from me my reason to live!

I didn't notice the knife in his hands until it was lodged my chest. He looked just as surprised as me, horror slackening his face as I dropped. Bái Wēi had caught me before I hit the floor.

I laughed. I wished I could hear what it sounded like. Anything sounded like.

I weakly resisted Bái Wēi's attempts to stem the blood. I wanted to died. I couldn't live in a silent world. I couldn't. I would break. He was crying and I was talking randomly, I couldn't hear it. It made me miserable. I hated myself.

Then I died.

But I'm awake.

And…

“Hello~” Soothing emerald green sings and tears falls in relief.

I can hear.