This might not even be in the story or I might change it, but it is supposed to happen somewhere at the end. I tend to writhe separate scenes and connect them later on.

I tried not to move because I did not want him to stop playing. The music washed over me and I listened.

The emotions these notes inflicted on me were so raw I almost cried were I stood. Eventually I could not hold the tears anymore and just let them stream down my face as I watched his beautiful figure behind the piano. He seemed in pain. Resisting the urge to walk up to him, I let him finish his song and stepped back to leave before he noticed me.

“Don’t go.”

I froze when his faint whisper reached my ears. His eyes were still closed and for a slight moment I thought I had imagined it, but then he spoke again, louder this time.

“I’m not done yet.”

Quietly, because I did not want to disturb the silence, I walked over to the couch and sat down. As soon as I breathed out, he began playing again.