A Melody Named After You

Summary:

I was sitting on the floor, leaning my head against the sofa, watching her thin hands typing rapidly on the keyboard, then absentmindedly staring at her slightly tilted side profile full of elegance. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed at those dense lines of code, something I would never be able to understand in my whole life. The sound of rain fell softly outside the window, blending with the romantic melody playing rhythmically from the record player.

My teacher once said that no sound is purer than the rising and falling notes coming from a vinyl record, and no melody is better than the rhythm played directly from a record player.

He always said music is magical - it makes two strangers' hearts beat in the same emotional rhythm. Maybe that's why I like listening to music from a record player. The rain kept tapping on the porch, making the air around us damp, carrying a faint scent of osmanthus flowers.

I picked up a strand of her hair and slowly kissed it, reverent and almost obsessed. I suddenly looked down at the blank sheet of music in my hand, already lined with staves but still without a single note written. I had been struggling for a whole week, unable to figure out what to write for the next MV.

Then I looked at her again - the foolish, dazed gaze I had unintentionally nurtured since early autumn last year. Maybe sensing it, she looked up from the messy code, tilting her head in confusion. I laughed softly, gently patting the top of her head. Maybe I already knew what I should write.

"Do you want I write for you a piece of music?" I asked. She still looked a little confused.

"Music?" She asked back, still slightly dazed.

"Yeah." I nodded firmly.

"A piece of music named after you."