Play my heart

Chapter XVI

They've become touchy since that day. Small gestures, like letting their fingers brush when they hand each other something, leaning into each other when they're sat together—on a couch, on the piano stool, under the window of the school's practice room—, Lee grabbing his elbow to fix his posture, Darren ruffling his hair when they fuck up the piece.

They're small, tiny gestures, but somehow they leave him reeling, his skin electrified and his insides a whirlwind.

(Lee must not be used to physical contact, besides, because he never fails to become a stuttering red mess after something like that happens).

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Darren finds himself thinking about that on the Thursday morning of the third week without Adryan. He doesn't answer to any of their calls, but Caesar and him have been searching for a way to send him a message. Having managed the details, all that's left is actually making the message.

He sits Dawn on the sofa they've set up in the middle of the school's concert stage, in front of a camera on a tripod.

"Caesar and I will make sure it reaches him," he promises. "So go ahead, tell him what you didn't get a chance to before he left."

Dawn stammers, eyes wide as he turns on the camera and presses the recording button, giving her a thumbs up. Darren considers walking away then, not too excited to hear what she has to tell her boyfriend, but instead settles for sitting with his back to the piano, off to a side.

After some awkward fumbling, Dawn finally gathers some confidence and starts talking. She reprimands Adryan for not reaching out to them, asks if he's so busy he's forgotten about his friends, and soon there are tears rollings down her face. Darren's stomach churns, but, to his surprise, listening to Dawn tell Adryan how much she misses him doesn't hurt as much as he'd expected.

"I think of you everyday," she says, choking back a sob. "For some reason, I can only remember the times we argued, but... it still makes me smile, to think about it all."

Darren smiles to himself. Tuning the rest of Dawn's words out, he turns to face the piano and considers playing something. His fingers brush over the first few notes of Rachmaninoff's arrangement of Love's Sorrow, the sounds barely a whisper.

He's so focused trying to get the right notes, he doesn't even notice Dawn falling silent and getting closer until she sits next to him, making him jump. He scoots over to make room, and she presses herself flush against his side. It's warm and comfortable as ever, but his heart is not skipping beats and his belly is not doing weird leaps this time. His smile comes back upon realizing it doesn't feel too different from leaning on Connor or hugging Caesar.

That is, until he risks a glance at her and finds her already looking. A spider of nervousness slowly climbs up his spine—he looks back just as a small hand falls onto one of his. The music falters and his smile fades.

"Thanks," she says in a hushed voice, "for always being there for me."

Darren nods, his throat constricted. The piano stool is far, far too small for the both of them. With his head turned towards her, their faces are merely centimeters apart. Dawn's warm breath fans over his skin, he gets a bit lost in her black eyes. They're gentle, timid, unlike... He's had another set of dark eyes gaze into his own, intense and burning, nothing like these. Where was it?

He's too distracted to understand what's coming next before it happens.

Dawn's lips brush over his, a feather-like touch. Darren leaps out of the seat as soon as his body can move, and his heart gets stuck in his throat. Dawn blinks at him, mouth agape, dazed—she has no idea what she's doing. To him, to Adryan, to herself.