timestamp : afternoon , — of december 1920 . location : nikolai’s music room , within the volkov estate tagging : @bratvaborn
the piano was old , though well taken care of , and the keys were worn slightly in a way that nikolai found comforting ; the touch of a younger self still present , and the slight oil of his fingers would mean that his current self would leave behind a mark as well . modern genres were exciting to the ear , they were what nikolai loved , but more classical pieces were comforting in the same way ; a familiarity beneath fingertips . the music echoed through the volkov estate , nikolai having left the door to the room that held the instrument open . he wanted light to come in through the windows in the next room , brightening dark wood . if he could drag the piano out into the garden he just might , heart like a sunbitten moth towards warm light , mind that just wanted to escape the darkness it couldn’t shake .
however , the fact that he was playing like this , unprompted and simply because he wanted to , was a sign that the darkness had receded a bit today , that world felt light enough for kolka to play a song fitting for the season . the song reaches his natural conclusion , but he’s been able to sense that someone is behind him for a few moments . he lets his hands rest , before looking back over his shoulder to see maksim . ‘ i can play quieter , ’ he suggests gently, ‘ i know you have work . ’