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Adrien stared down at the piano, sitting there quietly in the middle of the large room. A thin layer of dust had settled on the surface black wood, untouched and abandoned. Adrien’s throat tightened at the thought, as that was a good descriptor for what it felt like to be in this room once more.
He had come back to this place to just grab a few things. To pack necessities he had forgotten, and to gather items that didn’t hold painful memories. Yet he hadn’t been drawn to the photos on his lamp table or collectables he had been forced to keep hidden, but instead he found himself drawn straight to the piano.
He swallowed as he looked at the dusty keys, blinking a few times. His heart burned, but with what emotion, he did not know. The piano... he had always loved to play. It was an instrument he had picked out himself to learn when he was younger, and he had done so just so he could play alongside his mother, who had been the one to be his teacher when he had first began.
“Come on, Adrien, thumb on middle C.”
He moved towards the piano, the bench creaking as he pulled it out. His movement felt mechanical as he sat, staring down at the keys. They seemed to blur together, and for that moment his mother’s words didn’t make sense. Which note was which didn’t matter as tears stung his eyes, fingers robotically lifted as they got ready to play, yet he was unable to bring them down onto the keys themselves.
“We Agrestes are soloists.”
The gentle words of his mother were instantly drowned out as a different memory took hold, Adrien’s heart leaping at just the echo of his voice. Adrien leaned over the piano, knowing that he needed to play, that he needed to practice. He was supposed to, but he hadn’t played in so long. He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready–!
Footsteps echoed down the hall, and with a frightened gasp Adrien turned as the door was pushed open, an apology bubbling up in his throat as someone walked into his room, the panic rising.
“I’m sor–” he choked, the words dying in his mouth as he realized there was no tall imposing figure standing there, and the memory that consumed him shattered.
“How are things going in here?” Nino asked as he pushed open the door fully. “I found some things in another room that you might want to go through– Adrien? Are you okay?”
Adrien blinked once, realizing that there was tears falling down his face as he sat there, stiff and frightened. He swiftly wiped his arm across his face as his mind caught up with the present, trying to make sense of what exactly was happening. He looked up at Nino, whose amber eyes were wide with concern. He was setting down a box he had been carrying, swiftly approaching the piano.
“Adrien?” He said again. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” Adrien bobbed his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Just. Just thinking.”
Nino sat next to him on the bench, grabbing his hand. “Do you want to go? We can always come back another time, or I can go through things in here for you–”
“No!” Adrien cried, eyes wide. “I said I could do it, I said that–”
“Adrien,” Nino said, grabbing his other hand, holding both tightly. Adrien knew that his own hands were clammy, he could feel the beady sweat forming across his skin. “That isn’t why we’re here. If you’re not ready then we can leave. Someone else can go through everything. Or we could bring it to Ezra’s apartment to go through, or–”
“I can’t play the piano!” Adrien suddenly cried, feeling guilty for cutting off Nino. He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the tears he felt coming. “I... I can’t play it...”
Nino thumbs were rubbing calming circles on the back of his hands. “That’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t,” Adrien whispered. “I... I want to play it. I want to, but I can’t.”
He risked looking at Nino, who was frowning slightly. Again, Adrien’s heart thudded, and he wondered how he was supposed to explain this. He wasn’t supposed to miss things from this place. He shouldn’t have a connection to this manor, to this room, to anything that had to do with his father. It was wrong, and Adrien knew that. His father had been Hawk Moth, anything associated with him was...
But his mother. He remembered her softly playing the piano, singing him songs. He remembered learning alongside her, then playing alongside her. He remembered the warmth just the memory brought, playing together with someone. With his mother, with Plagg, with his father...
“We Agrestes are soloists.”
Adrien flinched at the words as they echoed in his mind, and he felt Nino’s hands pull away from his. He looked up at him, afraid that he was about to leave– but instead he found that Nino had turned his attention towards the piano itself. He examined the keys for a moment, the same ones that had been holding Adrien petrified, before laying his hands on them with ease, and began playing chopsticks.
His hands moved swiftly across the higher notes of the song, doing the simpler notes as he played. A bit of dust drifted into the air as he played, music echoing through the empty room. He glanced at Adrien, giving a nod, before playing the rest of the tune. Adrien didn’t move though, just watching the repeating movements of Nino’s hands, not hesitating even as they hit a wrong note.
As Nino ended the song he started again, this time moving closer to Adrien, lightly bumping against him. Adrien held out his hands once more, looking down at the keys below him. Except now they weren’t empty, Nino playing off to his right, music filling what had once been his bedroom. Taking a deep breath Adrien forced his hands down onto the keys, and began playing the other half of the duet.
He staggered a half a beat behind at first, Nino slowing down his pace for just a moment so they were playing in rhythm. It wasn’t a hard song, a far cry from what he was normally asked to practice, yet the fact that it wasn’t such is what made him able to keep playing at Nino’s side as they wrapped up the short little song, the room becoming quiet once again.
“You can play,” Nino said softly as the notes faded out, Adrien’s hands still lingering on the keys.
Adrien stared down at his hands, trying to recall the many classics he had once memorized. They pulled at his mind, lingering at the tips of his fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to even press down one chord.
“I can’t play alone,” Adrien whispered.
Nino put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. “You don’t have to.”
“...But I want to.”
“Then you will,” Nino said simply. “When you’re ready.”
When you’re ready. Those were the words he had been hearing for so long. So many things loomed above him, things that needed to be addressed– and yet everyone insisted that it could wait. That he wasn’t ready. That he could be ready. That it would wait until he was ready. They said the words so easily... yet Adrien didn’t believe them. It just didn’t feel right.
Yet when Nino said them, it felt like it was something he could believe.
“I don’t think I’m ready to be here,” Adrien whispered softly. “Not yet.”
Nino stood up, grabbing his hand once more. “Then let’s leave, we can go through things another day.”
Adrien didn’t let himself hesitate, allowing Nino to pull him to his feet. He followed him towards the door, finding that it was so much easier to leave than it had been to enter. He threw one more glance at what had once been his bedroom, his sanctuary, his prison. Tall shelves lined with books, dozens of metals and trophies gleaming in the light from the hallway, a bed that hadn’t been slept in for many months.
And a piano in the middle of the room, sitting silently once more.