It was months ago when you two first met. He was with his friends and you were alone. He probably thought it was a good time to make more friends. So he approached you and invited you into the conversations.
For lack of a better term, you clicked. With him and his friends. Too bad you would only be around for a short time.
Here comes the day that you’re back in where you first met. You’re with your own set of friends, eager to make memories that last. It came as a surprise to them that they’d be meeting your other friends. Both groups are just as shocked as the other.
While your groups mingle, he approaches you cautiously. He tells you, in a whisper, that there’s something he wants you to listen to at his studio.
Oh yeah. You forget that he’s a composer. He’s made hit after hit for his band and doesn’t seem to show any sign of stopping.
You say yes, and decide that you’ll head over to his studio after everyone is settled back in the B&B.
It feels like Cinderella, walking around after curfew without anyone knowing who you are. If they did, that would cause quite a scandal.
He opens the door for you before you even knock. “I’ve been anxious” he tells you. You counter with the usual banter that happens when you chat online, “Gee. After hours, you have a performance tomorrow, I wonder why?”
You both share a laugh. This was when you realize that this is the first time you enter his domain. This is where the magic happens. This is where he locks himself up in for who knows how long because that’s how much he values his craft.
There’s a sofa situated by the wall, and that’s where he asks you to take a seat. As you do so, he fumbles with his system.
The atmosphere seems tense.
This is what you were thinking while he looked all flustered. Finally, he presses play and makes his way towards the sofa to sit next to you.
He stares intently at whatever is in front of him. He seemed intent on not looking your way.
The song plays. You get into the rhythm and bop your head to the beat. A certain part of it arrives and you shake your shoulders to it.
But once the lyrics came to a certain drop, you stopped all actions. You listened carefully. And once the song finished, you wanted to make sure that you weren’t hearing things.
Silence overcame the room. “Could you play the second chorus again? Up until the end?”
His response was rising from the sofa and doing as you asked. He sat himself down the chair in front of his system. It played again, and this time, your hearing wasn’t failing you.
Towards the end of the song, your name, spelled to the last letter.
You’re distraught. It’s not that you couldn’t understand the situation, it was that you didn’t think that something like this would ever happen.
You turned your head slowly at him, and he looked at you with the most sincere look you have ever received. You could hear two hearts beating. Or it could have just been yours beating so damn fast.
“I wrote it for you, after meeting you” he said. “I had wanted to let you listen to it as soon as I was done but decided not to.”
“I realized that I wanted to watch you listen to it.”
“I wanted you here. Because maybe, I could have what the last line of the song stated.”
More silence. More heartbeats.
He stood up from his chair and made his way to the sofa. You looked at him then.
Cautiously, he reached for your hand. And the moment your hands touched, you were engulfed with a feeling that you have never, ever, experienced.
But that didn’t stop you from looking down at both of your hands. That didn’t stop you from closing your hand into his.
Every action you both did was done cautiously. It was kind of funny.
Your head slowly raises to see where the question came from. He’s looking at you with that same sincere look. But now, it was mixed in with a feeling that felt like he was asking please.
You couldn’t trust yourself to speak. But you knew what answer to give him, so you nodded your head as well as you could.
He moved closer then. His free hand reached for your cheek and brushed away the strands that was in the way of your lips. As he did so, he inched closer and closer to his destination.
Closer and closer he went. Foreheads met. Noses touched. Breaths mixed.
A statement follows, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
With a promised response: “Okay.”
Lips. Warm lips were around yours. Soft. Inviting. Longing. And you couldn’t help but give back.
Your hands make their way to his face, then towards his neck. It was simultaneous with his hands moving towards your waist.
You finally make the move to stop the kiss. Or kisses.
Has it been 5 minutes? 10?
You weren’t even keeping track in the first place.
origamiaround
blakekathryn
pixelskylines
ellievsbear
snowghoul
baratheonpilled
dailybridgerton
yousharknotpass
kaledo-art
annaxmalina
