Chapter Text
Crewel yawns.
It's certainly a bit late to be out in school, however, cleaning up hazardous messes in his lab, unfortunately enough, falls under him (which may or may not be because none of the guys Crowley hired before were up to Divus' standards, but alas), and additionally, today's accident fell under the ‘curious’ category, and the teacher wanted to investigate the substance up close to check if there's anything of worth in the mess before heading back to his quarters.
He might've lost track of time.
But now, finally, he stalks back to the mirror chamber to go back to his rooms, and most importantly, his bed. His delightfully warm—
Suddenly the train of thought was interrupted by a noise.
Crewel frowns and starts listening in closer.
This sounds like… a piano? He did not know they had any other pianos except for the music room and auditorium.
The teacher struts across the corridor, unconsciously following the rhythm, the notes resemble more a melody than just a noise the closer he gets, and Divus can't help but think it sounds really pleasant. Actually, he recognizes it. Isn't that… Isn't that Shostakovich's Waltz?
He creeps in closer to the slightly open doors and checks inside.
Well. He certainly was not expecting to see Asim inside.
Little puppy was turned back to the doors, sitting by the piano that has certainly seen better days, playing to his heart's content and without care. Asim plays without music sheets too, Divus notes.
Fascinating.
The teen is wearing the pants of his dorm uniform and the white cardigan he's so fond of, and from what Divus can hear, he is still wearing some of the jewelry that Asim loves so much, although the snake earrings are absent, just like the headscarf.
Crewel walks into the room as quietly as he can and sits down on the small green couch. Asim seems dead to the world around him, he moves slightly to the rhythm of the piece, his playing precise, but also not too precise. Actually, it seems he's playing rubato, which gives Asim's melodies… Well, it gives them a soul. Individuality.
Truly beautiful.
Crewel sits and listens to the very end, and when Asim finally releases the last note, he lightly claps his hands.
Puppy suddenly jumps on his seat, twisting back to see the teacher.
“P-professor?”
“Well played. Now, what are you doing here at such a late hour?”
Now Crewel can see a red shirt under the cardigan, and it seems that while Asim is not wearing his signature earrings, he still has some studs with light stones. Probably opal, if the teacher is not mistaken, judging from the ever so slight hint of color in the white.
“Uh, um, you see…” Asim swallows and sighs, “well, I like to play piano, I think I'm quite good at it, but I've kept it a secret, so the only way to practice is to play at night, and I'm in a lot of trouble aren't I?”
He's really nervous. That just won't do.
“Why do you keep it a secret? You're very good at it, and you clearly know it.”
“Um,” Asim is uncharacteristically skittish and inarticulate, this must be really important to him, “okay, alright. It's just… As the heir to my family, I've always been out there, y'know? Like, the public knows a lot about me, no matter if I want them to or not,” the teen swallows, “it's hard to keep any privacy and this — I mean, the piano — is the only thing I want to keep private for as long as possible.”
Crewel hums.
He suspects that this is barely scratching an iceberg, but for now, this explanation will suffice.
“And why is Viper absent?”
“He doesn't know.”
Interesting.
“So you sneak out under his nose? How?”
While Leona Kingscholar should work on being less blunt, he does have a point of saying that Viper is like a guard dog of Asim. Even though their relationship is strained now (which all teachers have noticed, though they seem to be somehow more relaxed too, if that makes any sense), Viper is still like a shadow attached to Asim.
Kalim snorts.
He honest to God snorts. Holy shit, so he can emote different feelings than happiness, confusion and slight disappointment?
Divus might need to mark this day in the calendar, this is spectacular!
“The day Jamil catches me sneaking out is the day I give up my status of the heir and go live on a deserted island.”
Well, that certainly wasn't loaded with baggage of meaning. Not that Crewel is going to make Asim talk about it. For now, at the very least.
“I might be convinced not to give you a detention for your midnight rendezvous.”
Asim looks sharply at Crewel. Good puppy, he knows an occasion when he sees one. Although that shouldn't be a surprise — he is the heir of the Asim family.
“Tell me your price. Money? Rare alchemical ingredients? All expenses paid vacation away from Headmage?”
While the two last points are really tempting, this is not what Divus is thinking about.
“No, nothing of sorts. I just want to listen to you when you practice.”
Asim blinks, confused.
“What? That's it?”
“Yes, that's it.”
“Are you going to tell anyone that I play piano?”
Ah, straight to the point. Though now Divus is curious…
“What's more important to you, not getting detention or keeping the piano a secret?”
“The secret.” Asim doesn't even hesitate, “I don't care if I get punished or not if my playing skills are kept secret.”
Wow, he's really serious about that.
“I won't tell anyone. And I won't give you the detention, just tell me when you practice. Besides,” Crewel smiles, “in case if Trein was walking by, and I am here, then he won't be able to give you a detention for not being in the dorm during the night.”
Asim smiles.
“Haha, Professor Trein is a man of habit, and really dislikes changing his routine, and he never walks past this corridor, since it's kind of out of his way.”
Clever puppy.
Divus already knew that Asim is smarter than he appears to be (academical accomplishments be damned, the marks aren't everything, and Asim is good at prioritizing what is actually important to learn versus what the calculus says is — if only Divus could pass Asim with flying colours for his sheer ingredients and reagents knowledge instead of recipes memorization and practical skills, then he would've done it long ago), but he never thought he pays such attention to habits of other people.
“Even comfort creatures can change their routine if the need is there. After all, you weren't expecting me to be here, no?”
Asim scratches the back of his head.
“Yeah…”
“So, the practice days…?”
“Oh, right! I play on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Usually for around two or three hours, except for Saturday, then I play longer,” which makes sense, it's a weekend day, thinks Crewel.
“And now?”
“I just started, actually. I'm here at around eleven, since usually nobody is out at that time in school.”
Crewel nods, and relaxes in his seat.
“Alright, I will stay with you then.”
Asim smiles slightly at Divus, before he turns back to the piano and starts lightly playing another piece. A soft ting-a-ling of the golden bracelets are accompanying the sounds of clicking keys and notes from strings.
Truly beautiful.
And as such, a new routine established itself.
Often Divus took his work with him during the live piano concerts Asim so kindly provides, marking homework and tests to the sounds of his playing, sometimes he's even designing new outfits and asking Asim for the opinion (which usually boils down to ‘more jewelry’, but if nagged enough, the teen had some inspiring ideas).
Asim keeps playing different pieces, sometimes he just plays a full piano concert for fun, sometimes he practices a new piece he's found and is interested in, and very rarely, he brings out his tablet and has a private master class with world renowned pianists. How did he get into contact with them, Divus has no idea, and he tries very hard not to think about how much money Asim blows on those guys just so he can play some pieces better.
Sometimes it's hard to remember that Asim is not a normal student, and his pocket money is probably more than Crewel's yearly pension. Thankfully though, the teen doesn't brag about this, and speaks of hiring the pianists as if he was buying lollipops in the local craft shop, so while his scale is a lot bigger than that of a regular teenager, he makes it sound like it's normal. And that's because it is, at least for him.
The routine is quite cozy, hearing the piano playing live certainly beats listening to it on the internet, and Asim's love for difficult pieces certainly leaves Crewel decently impressed.
And even if now Divus has less time to sleep, and it certainly had left its mark on his beauty routine, he thinks it's worth it, especially when he can see Asim smiling slightly from the side.
And seeing students happy is the true joy of being a teacher.