Ballads should've been easy. Jongdae couldn't say he'd been excited when Joonmyeon had told him his assignment, not at all, but he wasn't expecting for it to be so ing hard. A love story, lots of heartbreak, a terribly cliché phrase here and there, a simple melody. That was it. Only that, apparently, it wasn't. Yixing had practically laughed at his face (Jongdae had only let it go because oh god his laughter) when he'd told him to go ahead and write something pretty that they could sing.

"It's a process," he'd said "You have to feel what you write."

But the feeling thing wasn't happening. It was already their third day together, and neither him nor Yixing had managed to produce a single piece. Nothing. Nada. Jongdae was sick of being in the studio. Of course, having his ultimate life idol sitting on the piano right in front of his eyes helped, a lot, but they were both getting restless, and no amount of superficial chatter would dissipate the feeling of dread settled in the room.

He wanted this to work out. Not only he didn’t want to let Kyungsoo, Joonmyeon, and the whole ing company down, but it was also Yixing that he was talking about. He didn't want to be seen as a burden by the obviously more talented and experienced boy, someone who'd just put his name on the album without having anything to do with it. This was his chance to prove to himself and to the rest of the world that he did deserve the praises he got.

Jongdae lay on the floor, blank notebook by his side, begging any superior being he could remember to shower him with music composition superpowers. Yixing sat by the piano, cheek resting on his left hand as his right one roamed through the keys.

The random notes were nice, pretty even, but they didn't... click.

"Wait!" Jongdae scrambled to sit up, looking up to a very startled Yixing, "Do that again."

The pianist scrunched his face up in confusion for a moment, looking at him oddly before the meaning of those words dawned on him and he stared back at the piano, eyes caressing the tiles as he attempted to recall what he'd just played. Jongdae held his breath as the events unfolded in front of him, excitement and poorly repressed hope bubbling inside him.

And then Yixing put his hands back in the keys, playing that short succession of notes, not even a full five seconds, that had managed to sparkle Jongdae's imagination. Springing up to his feet, he approached the piano, the small smile gracing Yixing's face and indicator that he'd felt it, too. Jongdae tapped the lid of the piano to the rhythm, and smirked at how his feeble imitation of the newfound melody felt just right. Yixing smiled up at him, and, as his heartbeat became a little bit uneven, Jongdae realized that he had to try to make this right, if only to keep that smile on the pianist's face.

It wasn't much, but it was a beginning. Their beginning.

.oOo.