Chapter Text
skylar stilled when he heard the soft sound of a piano echo down the hall. the melody reminding him of a summer rain on a hot day or seeing the night sky light up with an abundance of stars… the idea was warm, but nostalgic—maybe, even a bit sad—and skylar, despite himself, couldn’t help but wonder about the person that was currently making that sound.
was it chan-il?
someone from the music club?
the music teacher?
but when he had turned a corner to make his way to the source—to peak inside without the other party noticing his presence—his eyes widened completely in surprise.
cirrus was sitting at a piano bench with his fingers poised over white and black keys and a face filled with anguish. but the melody—the composition—had given none of that pain away…
and that…
and that…
fuck if he knows.
because even with the sight and sound of cirrus playing making him unable to pull or turn himself away, skylar digs his fingernails into the skin of his palms until his skin crescents and smarts with pain. it’s then, that skylar wonders if any of this was real—or was just some crazy dream that skylar wouldn’t be able to remember upon waking?
because looking at the other teen—the friend that chan-il had mentioned to have no interest in music—play as if he had been born to do nothing other than that, skylar feels something twist and turn within the cavern of his chest.
cirrus…
cirrus wasn’t supposed to be like this…
and when the blonde decided to open his mouth and sing, it doesn’t take long for skylar’s heart to take another beating that he’d never be able to recover from. because cirrus was absolutely marvelous, and yet, it was as if he had wanted to destroy every aspect of himself in the confines of that room.
and that…
that had dug skylar even deeper in the little web of lies that cirrus had created.