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Crescendo: (Italian-means 'growing') a gradual increase in dynamic volume OR to gradually play louder.
[Their feelings, just like a crescendo; gradually grew as time passed and those feelings kept on increasing in magnitude.]
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THE PAST, DAEGU
I was ten when I first felt it- A strange kind of stirring in my chest when she held my hand and guided my fingers to the correct piano keys.
I had asked her to teach me how to play the piano and she had agreed after much persuading done on my part. We were silly and childish, and I had made her promise me that she would teach me if she came first in her next competition and she had agreed.
We were sitting next to each other on the black piano bench in her room (it took most of the space in her room, so much so that with her bed and cupboard there wasn't any space to move around and her room thus always felt cramped but cozy.) and our shoulders were touching.
I mean, we had hugged each other and even held hands before while playing together in school and at each other's houses but that day it didn't feel like before- I could feel my heart thudding against my rib cage as she grabbed my fingers and hovered hers over mine as she placed them on the correct black and white keys, and she pointed out the notes for me.
The piece that she was to teach me was Beethoven's "Ode to Joy", a piece she claimed was as easy as ABC and for beginners. I knew how to read sheet music at least as she had taught me before so I flipped the pages of the book propped above me and found the piece.
Isuel had doodled on the page just like other pages of her music book, and I chuckled when I saw that it was a funny cartoon of our class teacher from school. When she saw what made me laugh she too chuckled but then seriously told me to concentrate.
She played it first for me and as usual, I couldn't tear my eyes off her when she played. She looked the prettiest when she played, with her skilled fingers moving over the black and white keys and her eyes halfway closed but not quite, and her pink tongue sticking out in concentration.
That day I was more than mesmerized by her, and that strange and unfamiliar stirring I felt in my chest grew and grew like a crescendo as I watched her play.
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The concert hall was filled with a sea of people, and among them I sat along with Iseul's father and watched her perform.
Like others, I too was utterly spellbound by her performance as usual. I couldn't look away when she played-she was so absorbed into it. The passion with which her hands moved looked something ethereal and otherworldly; something straight out of heaven if there ever was such a place.
That day she truly looked like an angel; with her white knee length frock, her curled chestnut hair tumbling down in gentle waves and framing her rosy round face.
It was the summer before we started middle school. After her recital got over, she bounded over to where I was waiting for her along with her father and she hugged me tightly. It was the first time I had ever seen her perform at a recital, as I had to take permission from my parents since most of her recitals were outside Daegu.
"Thanks for coming TaeTae! How was it? Did you like it? Was I good? Did I make any mistakes?"
She bombarded me with questions the moment we got into the car. Her father told her driver to take us back to Daegu as he had some urgent work and couldn't drop us back himself. I could see that Iseul was a bit disappointed and sad but she hid it well.
"Calm down Iseul-ah! It's not like this is your first recital."
I reminded her with a chuckle and patted her head. She could be a bit scatterbrained at times and it was endearing.
"But it's your first time! I don't care about others, only you. I want to hear whether you liked it or not!"
Her words made my heart skip a beat and when I looked at her, I saw her hazel eyes gaze back at me, a hint of anxiousness about my approval mixed in the general sparkle they carried.
I took her hands in mine, her perpetually warm ones instantly warming my cold ones-She used to even joke that I was a vampire as my hands were always cold and I used to retort that as long as I have her, I won't ever need hand gloves.
"You were wonderful back there. I thought you were an angel."
I replied honestly, and even though I could feel as if my heart was about to burst from my chest, I didn't tear away my gaze.
"Really? Taehyungie that's the best compliment I have ever heard! Thank you."
And then she did something which took both of us by surprise- she leaned closer and kissed my cheek. I could see her own cheeks redden and was sure that my ears were in the same condition.
As a brief awkward pause settled, she suddenly broke it by leaning her head on my shoulder with a tired sigh. She used to do it whenever she felt tired, claiming that my shoulders were even better than fluffy pillows and that she loved falling asleep on them.
That evening, as we drove back to Daegu, I knew it for sure. I knew it as I stared at her slightly open mouth as she lightly snored (which was quite adorable), I knew it as I brushed those loose tendrils of her hair away from her face gently, and I knew it as I slowly wrapped my arm around her to pull her closer-
I knew it that my feelings which had been growing steadily for the past few years had reached their crescendo.
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YOU ARE READING
Piano Keys | Kim Taehyung | ✓
Short Story✔ [featured on Wattpad's Short Story and Kpop and WattCliches profiles' reading lists.] ↠ ▮▯▮▯▮▯▮▯ ↞ The familiar black and white keys which we spent the summers and winters of our childhood with; those piano keys with which she played countles...