| ~ fluffy ~ |

note: part two of Woozi (II) ; Woozi is Jihoon when he is with you, he's Woozi when he's not sorry for any confusion

Fingers danced together nimbly across glistening ivory keys.

. . .

You found yourself in the room again. A week later, early in the morning. School wasn’t going to start in an hour and you followed what your heart had been telling you to do for days now. Originally, you resisted the urges to meet with the interesting boy you had met that afternoon, but temptation proved to be too strong.

Before you tried to open the door, you leaned against the wood to listen for any noise indicating that he was there. You didn’t know why you wanted to avoid him, but you were comforted by the fact that it seemed quiet. With silent movements, you unlocked the door before shutting it behind you.

It was like stepping into another world. This room seemed to be cut from reality, you couldn’t help but to feel free and uninhabited when you were here; it was so easy to follow your heart here.

Once again you drifted towards the piano that had enticed your soul and sat down in front of it. You stayed still for a long moment as if you were thinking deeply of what you were going to do next. But when you pushed the wooden cover up and off the black and white keys, your fingers moved of their own accord.

After playing the C Major scale several times so your fingers were warmed up, you began playing all different types of scales. Going from major to minor to major again before running through the sharp and flat scales in order.

You were conscious of what was going on but your fingers didn’t seem like they were a part of you, they sprinted with skill and speed that you didn’t remember they had. You remembered feeling like this when you still played piano; after a while you wondered how your fingers were able to memorize how to move so quickly and accurately.

But that reminded you. That was all your playing was. Muscle memory. No meaning. Just movements engrained within through hours of grueling practise.

Your fingers trailed off, notes fading sadly.

“Don’t stop.” It was him. You recognized his light and musical voice; it was a voice that was made to sing. “Keep going.”

You turned to face him, head tilted slightly. “Why? It’s got nothing to do with you, really.”

There was a quirky little grin on his face as he walked closer so he was standing beside you. “It’s music. Anyone can enjoy it; I happen to enjoy yours.” He nudged you and you moved to the side instinctively; he sat down beside you. Your shoulders and hips were touching as the bench was really only made for one person. Judging by the pleasant tingles you were experiencing, you didn’t mind it at all.

But his words were too distracting for you to focus on the sensation. “You can’t call what I play music.”

“Why not? Music is music as long as someone enjoys it.” His hair caught the morning sunlight quite well, lighter strands shining prettily against the darker.

A shy smile began to bloom on your face before the bell rang. You were brought abruptly back to reality.

“Bye.” You didn’t plan on coming back, it was strange here, it was dangerous here, because it was too perfect here.

“Come back.” His eyes caught yours and you couldn’t summon any of your earlier conviction to shake your head. “I’ll be waiting this time.”

“Okay…” You trailed off, glancing at him once more before you reached your hand out to open the door.

His smile was beautiful, crescent eyes and round cheeks. “Jihoon. My name’s Jihoon.”

. . .

Jihoon. You thought of his name for almost the entire day, any time you found your attention wavering from the work you were doing, it returned to him. You couldn’t get him out of your mind.

You found yourself tapping little rhythms with your fingertips on the desk, the light thumping was almost soothing. Some part of you had awoken, a part that you had pushed away has somehow fought its way to the surface once more.

It was because of him.

. . .

You held one of your heavier textbooks in your hands as you walked towards the piano room, as you have dubbed it, surprised at how much you were excited to be there once more. There was a spring in your step as you walked behind the crush of people in the hallways.

When you finally fought through the closely compacted bodies, you let out a sigh of relief. You could never understand why teenage males didn’t understand that body odour existed.

. . .

Sungcheol called him pathetic. If Woozi had been feeling more himself, he wouldn’t have hesitated to pull out a guitar and show him exactly who was pathetic.

But he was once again thinking of you. You intrigued him like no one had before, you were the physical manifestation of what it meant to be a contradiction, if he had ever met one. In terms of music, he had never seen someone with so little yet at times deep understanding of their art.

It was so baffling. You loved music, he could see it. No one would look so lost and fragile when speaking about something they cared little about. At the same time however, he could also see the delicate balance you maintained when playing, you could never truly express yourself. The music was no part of you, it was just something that you willed to happen.

There was no part of you.

And Woozi longed to listen to what your true music was.

So he waited. He wasn’t sure how long he would have to, but it seemed that luck was on his side when he was running to his room one early morning to hear the same river-like scales coming from his piano.

. . .

Jihoon’s smile was welcoming when you walked in shyly, a guarded expression in your eyes as you studied the room with a scrutinizing gaze.

“Good afternoon,” his voice was as warm as the sun as you approached while his smile only grew wider. He was sitting on the bench while a small metal fold-up chair sat beside the piano. “Have a seat here.” He patted the chair.

You set down your things and made your way the rickety chair and as Jihoon waited patiently for you to take a seat.

“Will you be playing?” You asked, curiosity obvious in your tone as you sat down; you wondered how he played.

He nodded, “I figured it was about time, since I’ve already heard you play twice. It didn’t seem really fair that you haven’t had the chance to listen to me.”

There was an eager smile on your face as you leaned closer to the piano in anticipation. “Take it away.”

Seeing your enthusiasm filled Jihoon with his own excitement, but he couldn’t help but the feel a bit nervous. He had the irrational thought that if you didn’t like his music, you would never come back, and he would never see you again.

But he settled his mind and heart before he began to play.

You were amazed, you could understand it. Over the years you’ve strived to undercover what these great composers and pianists tried to convey through their art however, it never sounded like anything except for notes that were strung prettily together.

Jihoon’s music wasn’t like that. You could feel it, it seemed almost tangible; you could get hints of what he was trying to say and even what emotions he was trying to hide. The undercurrent of uncertainty was present throughout his invitation.

That was what he was trying to say. He wanted you to join him.

When the song ended, you brought your hands together in quiet applause as you gazed at Jihoon in awe. “That was amazing.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me from you.” His eyes sparkled warmly while a tiny smile formed on his lips. “So you want to give it a try?”

You looked at your hands, the fingers that you had once given up hope for. But you didn’t feel the futility you were used to, you wanted to play again, not just for yourself but also with him.

Your smile was all he needed.

. . .

It was harmony.

Two pairs of hands drifted by each other, in complete synchronization. Not once did they collide and disrupt the fluidity of the perfect sound, but they would often lightly graze each other, like the touch was something they both found natural and needed.

More than anything, you were happy. Playing alongside Jihoon never failed to brighten your days or fill you with elation. You knew him and he knew you. How the two of you went about expressing that was always through music.

So, when the last note ended and deafening applause filled the full auditorium, you didn’t take notice of any of it.

All you could see was the love that shone in Jihoon’s eyes you knew was reflected in yours.