Colorless Hearts

f i f t e e n

It had been over a month since she gave him the best gift he had ever received, and he had done nothing but practice afterwards.

She noticed the way he played with even more zeal, which she had previously thought was impossible. Again and again, he had managed to surprise her with his talents.

He spent every waking moment working on his performance, trying to come up with something new, something he had never done before.

"I want to play something original, something that'll make everyone feel what I'm feeling in that moment," he told her as he sipped on a piña colada, which they were sharing.

  "Writing your own music is still a challenge for you?" she asked, and he nodded, sighing.

  He pushed the drink over to her, then rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Playing music is so different from writing it. I need to make up my own melody, lyrics, and choose what instrument I want to perform with it. I'm too used to having something to guide me."

  "Hm, I can understand that," she said as she glanced down at her journal. "I guess it's like if I didn't have anything to write about. If I lived in the middle of nowhere with no one around, I'd have no inspiration. All I'd have is my own imagination, but nothing to feed it."

  "Yeah. Good comparison," he murmured. She stared at him as he began to lose himself in his thoughts, a frown crawling onto his face.

  "Hey," she reached for his hand, catching his attention. He met her eyes, and he found comfort in them as he always did. "Like I've told you before, you're going to figure it out. And even if you don't win the contest, you'll make a name for yourself out there because you're going to put your heart and soul into it. Just like you do here every night. Okay?"

  His fingers gently played with hers as he smiled. "Okay. You're right. I can't force it, so I'll just let it come to me."

  She nodded, returning the smile. His eyes bored into hers, and he began to feel drawn to her, instinctively wanting to lean closer. But before he could, his band mates hollered for him, and he returned to the stage.

  She watched him play like she always did, swaying her head to the song. He was on the trumpet, which reminded her of the first day she saw him, and she was filled with nostalgia at the memory.

He gazed at her from the stage, admiring the way the light hit her skin, making her almost glow. He was finishing the song when he noticed her eyes suddenly enlarge.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her scramble to her feet and rush out of the jazz club. She returned a second later, poking her head through the door to give him an apologetic smile and wave. Unable to remove his hands from the trumpet, he nodded at her in response before she left.

Once the band finally called it a night an hour later, he made his way towards the exit when he spotted something at their usual table. He went over to peer at it and his eyebrows rose in recognition.

It was her journal. She was in such a rush that she seemed to have forgotten it.

He picked it up and peeked inside to look behind the cover, where her address was written. He looked around the empty club, pursing his lips.

"I have to return this to her," he muttered to himself, then marched over to the door.

A/N: hi again! who else is proud of my consistency?

anyway, the next chapter will be a continuation of this one, hence the cliffhanger. but i have to warn you, it's going to be pretty intense. prepare yourselves!

i'll be updating as soon as possible. see you in the next chapter.