https://www.tumblr.com/chocolatea-m-blog/818154184338735104/hii-is-everything-okay-im-super-obsessed-with?source=share
omg!! asking for a little sneak peek? š¤²
*hereās a rough draft, itās subject to final edits but as you commandedā¦*
Marcoās drums are in the corner , one of the sticks messily on the floor strewn across it, Sofiaās creased music sheets are on the stand when they find it. Carlos carefully places them to one side and takes a seat at the bench.
Itās a good thing that the music room is far from when the children sleep. Thereās no chance they wake up. Or the staff. Jannik takes a seat on the nearby armchair not far from the piano, his legs feeling a little too big.
āWhat mood are you in?ā Carlos asks candidly , starting to position his fingers over the keys. His posture straightens imperceptibly.
It feels like such a big question.
āI donāt know - a good one.ā
āI can do that.ā Carlos nods. '
And then he plays to him.
A classic at first , something Jannik recognises. Fur Elise. It takes him back to boarding school and hearing it from the music teacher. Half distracted because he didnāt think it was relevant but not he recognises the notes. Quick chords that make his hands travel fast to catch each note before it arrives. And then he plays things Jannik hasnāt heard before. Has no reference for. They must be original because they follow no formula or elements of predictability. He is almost beautifully insane. He places notes that shouldnāt belong together and makes it a symphony. Carlos looks down, fringe falling in front of his face, expression one of pure concentration. Jannik leans forward on his chair, clasping his hands together.
It's not that he's consciously comparing Carlos with Angelina. But there is an undeniable thread between them.
Even with all the time he had with Angelina, heād never actually learnt the piano himself - , he just liked to admire. So that's what he does now. He admires.
When Carlos lingers on the final note, a thrum which echoes around the room, Jannik is still a moment behind. He stands up when itās over.
āAgain.ā Jannik says. āPlease.ā
Carlos glances at him, surprised. He lifts his hands from the keys and runs a hand through his hair. āYou liked it?ā
āThat would be an understatement.ā Jannik says.
āWell, sit next to me and Iāll play again.ā Carlos says, scooting over on the bench slightly. Jannik squeezes in beside him. The bench was built for at most an adult and a child, at a push an adult and two children. But for two adults, itās a bit more of a squeeze. .
āReady?.ā Carlos asks,
Carlos nods and then presses down on the keys once again, playing a few wayward notes experimentally before finding a different rhythm. Now right next to him, Jannik notices that he doesnāt look away from the keys. Carlos barely glances up at him when he starts playing, itās actually like Jannik completely disappears, itās like Carlos is inside or on a stage that Jannik canāt see. And in that world, instead of dressed in silk pyjamas like he is now, he has a black tuxedo on and an audience that stands when heās done. In reality, the person thats watching him is a widowed father who is reverently attracted to him, and itās past midnight on his worldly estate and he should be absolutely tired but heās absorbed. Heās tried to block this side of Carlos out, if heās not around when he plays with Sofia then he can pretend this side doesnāt exist but not only is it existing now, it canāt be contained. Itās right here, inches from him, filling the room.
Jannik is sure he could cover Carlosā eyes with the palm of his hands and he would still somehow find the notes.
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