music was all that you had, growing up under your father’s roof, where there was always a record playing low in the background, or the gentle strumming of a guitar sounding through doors and ceilings. you felt it in your bones, in your heart and your soul. in fact, the first lyrics that ever tumbled from that round, sweet mouth were those of led zeppelin’s going to california, your father playing alongside, pride painted across his features. you told him everyday that you wanted to be like the woman in that song. 

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someone told me there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair

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as time went on, and you grew, music became more of a crutch than a love; something to rely on when you couldn’t deal with your inadequacies, or how lonely you felt, or the swelling in your heart every time jihoon walked past you in the hallway at school.

 

he didn’t know who you were, even. years you had spent, in class, at lunch, after lessons, trying to get his attention, and yet he always dropped his gaze when you said hello. maybe it was the way you grinned so broadly in his presence, or how you began to hum under your breath any time he was around, but he always gave you the oddest of looks. 

 

but you couldn’t help it, really. he just seemed a lot more mature than the rest of the boys in your class. you imagined explaining the way certain songs made you feel, and he wouldn’t laugh like the others. he’d understand the shallow breathing, and the wracking sobs and the rawness of your throat when you sang at home, alone. he’d know how it feels to rub hard calluses from playing for too long or how your eyes sting at four in the morning from staying awake and writing. 

 

music was all that you had, and in your mind, it was all that he had as well. it only made sense in your head that you should come together and have each other. it would help if you could manage to muster up more than a whispered hello, however. 

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h…h…hey um…how are you?

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it was a nondescript tuesday afternoon in late september when you had your guitar lesson. it wasn’t the kind of tunes you were used to playing, all passion and bloody fingers. instead you’d been forced to take classical, because it was all your school had offered, but you didn’t mind so much. jihoon took piano before you had your lesson, and you could sometimes hear him, if you listened closely enough. mostly the jazz band tended to block out any of his playing. 

 

jazz band was cancelled this week though, conveniently enough. 

 

so there you stood, hard case shielding your body, next to the room where he was softly playing, alone. it seemed odd to you that the both of you were separated by only a door, and your nerves, and his stubbornness. he played beautifully, you thought to yourself, leaning your figure against the cool wall, edging closer to the door.

 

you recognised the melody, at least, even though it was being played on a piano rather than a guitar, as god intended. it was something you sang every day at home, in your kitchen, dressed in pyjamas, hands in the air, face borne up to the sky. you’d been singing it in class the other day as you worked out some ridiculous equation, jihoon sitting in the seat in front of you.

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so for once in my life / let me get what i want

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you never heard the door swinging wide open. he stood in front of you now, the piano playing only in your head, your lips parted from murmuring the words in a trance. it was all you could do not to melt into the floor, or hide behind your guitar case. but he could see you, plain as day, blush burning under your eyes.

 

“what are you doing?” he stared at you blankly, though now you could see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. no doubt this would be a story he’d tell his friends later. 

 

“…singing.” you replied meekly, a sheepish grin lighting up your features as you swallowed the rest of the song in your throat. 

 

“uh huh. eavesdropping more like it.” jihoon raised a brow, one hand sliding up the frame of the door as he leant, head tipped to the side. you sighed gently at that, warm breath whistling past your lips. he was so nice to look at, and you could only feel your nerves wash over your face, your fingers tingling as he his lips in waiting.

 

“i know that song. i didn’t know you could play it.” that was all you could manage, more of a squeak than a statement to which he simply nodded, hair rustling gently with his movements. 

 

“i heard you singing it on friday in class. i got curious, i guess.” his gaze dropped from your face to his feet for just a second, enough to make your heart slam against your ribs, forcing your body to shake from the centre outwards, until you shook all over, knees knocking, fingers twitching.

 

your throat closed up then, staring at him and his long fingers wrapped around the door frame, his school shirt, beginning to untuck from stretching his body along the length of the piano, hair falling into eyes from leaning forward towards you. you had forgotten the words to every love song you knew, every chord and beat, lost in a sea of jihoon.

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“you’re really handsome when you play, do you know that?” it had slipped from your pink mouth before you realised it, the truth seeming to roll far too easily from your tongue. as you cringed, he laughed, loud and kind, his figure falling forward towards yours, his hand gripping your arm. 

 

you were the only two in the hallway to witness it, how you froze like a rabbit in headlights before dissolving into giggles, your laughter and his harmonising so perfectly in your ears. he shook his head now, hand slipping from your arm as he went to wipe wet eyes, dark and sparkling.

 

“c’mon. there’s a part i can’t get. you can help.” he brushed his hand, salty with joyful tears, against yours, catching a hold of your index finger, paying no mind to how your words got caught in your throat once more, instead leading you inside, seating you on the piano stool beside him, so close. he must be able to feel the fire on your skin.

 

“okay.” he looked to you briefly, leafing through sheet music as he went, finding the place where he had begun to trip up. you stared, still in disbelief, chewing on your bottom lip as he put a pencil between his teeth.

 

“you sing it. i know you can sing.” he mumbled, taking the pencil out for just a second, a small, shy smile coming across his pale, sweet face.

 

“i listen to you singing every day.”