The Holiday
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- Parts 1
Written a few years ago when people still send postcards from holidays and when the Peseta was the currency in Spain! (I left those references in but removed the one about a mini-disc player :))
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"why do you play?" he asked one evening, finding you had been practicing alone while the other residents were outside in the pool. his finger had tapped on the page you were fixated on, allowing you to glance up and meet his gaze as well as read the lips that spoke of syllables deaf to your ears. you peered at him curiously, and for a moment chishiya thought that maybe he had spoken too quick for you to comprehend. but before he could fix his mistake you were fixing your bench and tapping on the keys, a melody entrancing his ears. many emotions hit him at once, leaving him in a daze and struggling to grasp onto them all. but he listened, he put his full attention to the sounds you played trying to give him what he wanted. it was giving him a sense of...clarity was it? is this what the music you had no ability to understand leaving you with? why? it left him frustrated, for he was not happy with the outcome of his curiosity. how were you able to find such solitude in the very thing you lacked? what did that leave him with? eventually the sounds ceased, until you stilled your hands and dropped them to lay in your lap. you peered up at him, awaiting his reaction and chishiya could only provide you with a fake enough smile to label him a phony, "how peculiar."Complete
Go read the original story's bio Can't be bothered to make one.
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