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The smells of the forest were deep and prone to shifting. It was always refreshing for Scarlet to move beyond the lake and the clinging mists there to the meadow beyond. She always feared those smells would cling to her clothing, then do their part to turn her into some beast of the woods, always running about like Ginger.
These open areas were different, though. The sun broke through beautifully, giving its own warmth and purity to the grasses here. She'd often wander to the abandoned stage here, and simply sit on the benches. She imagined the plays, the recitals, the dances that must have been performed here. It was in much better condition then the other ruins in the forest and, honestly, it wasn't really that far from Grandmother's house. It made mother worry, but really. Wolves? They only attacked little girls in fairy tales. There were more substantial worries to be had in this world.
Nonetheless, something felt different about today. It was not as comforting as Scarlet had expected to turn away from the city, enter to forest and feel her feet leave that lightly winding path. She pushed on, though. Listening to the sounds and letting her memories of the hills and the smell of the mist guide her through the rows of monotonous trees. She knew she was near the theater she loved. Any sort of unease always seemed to drew her here faster and easier.
It didn't exactly offer comfort today, though; something was wrong. The gentle sound of piano was beginning to filter between the trees, and only became louder as the woods gave way to grass, and the red benches came into view. The source was obvious: an old upright piano, so similar to the one Scarlet played at Grandmother's house so often, had been placed on stage here.
The playing was beautiful, a smooth and effortless melody brought to life by nimble fingertips and an experienced hand. Briefly, Scarlet was jealous. She was years away from that kind of grace, and was sure she could never achieve that carefree kind of ease. The emotion stung, and she persisted forward, against her better judgement.
Scarlet approached slowly, skirting around the edges of the benches instead of approaching directly. It was rare to see anyone else in the forest (Ginger would confidently declare it uninhibited, she’d searched it all, after all). She touched her face lightly trying to coax out words, but she could only breath in soft, nervous gasps. The stage was directly before her now, strange presence and all. She hesitated again, before stepping forward.
The figure at the piano rose, as though a new instance had been triggered by Scarlet's proximity, and stepped quietly away. Scarlet hung back, nervous, and watched the stranger cross the stage. They were androgynous. And beautiful. Their long, pale hair was almost albino, and their limbs were oddly slender and flowed with their motions as they walked in smooth silence, down the steps and into the bleachers. They leaned against a flag post there, expectant and intimidating, but endlessly enticing. Scarlet slid onto the piano's bench and rested her hands on the keys. She loved this part the most, with her gently cupped hands against the cracked white ivory, she could almost feel the potential music within them. It was warm, and she shivered when she imagined it.
She started playing in her own careful way. She picked out the keys one by one, keeping her back straight in the perfect posture she'd always been taught to keep. The tune was halting and emotionless, and Scarlet bit her lip a bit as she played. She could see motion from the corner of her eye, and knew it was from the stranger. Were they leaving? Had she offended them? She had thought they seemed as though they were waiting for her, but at the same time she knew that that was an idiotic notion through and through. It was all she could do to not let out an audible squeak when a hand suddenly brushed across her back and the stranger was suddenly next to her, resting a hand on the keyboard. Scarlet could not read the expression on their face, as they locked into eye contact for a long moment. She closed her eyes, taking in the presence of this person as her inspiration for the moment. Her shoulders relaxed, drooping down and the melody evened out in agreement with the gesture. It was still so much simpler than the music in her head, but it was closer. She faltered for a moment as a lilting harmony joined in, and it occurred to her that her unexpected audience was playing along, their fingers dancing across the keys as well. Before she fully understood the emotion of the moment, she let out a throaty laugh, genuinely enjoying playing for the first time in a long while. She would stay here, if she could. Forever lost in a wandering melody with some stranger in the middle of the woods. The fog would swirl around them like dancers, while the trees stood as the silent sentries defending their secret.
It was truly intoxicating, falling apart from herself in time with that song. Scarlet's hand stumbled, but was caught just as quickly. She gasped, lightly. It was such a strange sensation, she couldn't remember the last time she touched another person directly. It wasn't nearly as warm as she imagined. The dissonance of sensation reeled in her mind, overwriting fantasies and giving way to cool and roughly calloused memories instead.
She was so light-headed. Scarlet squeezed hers eyes shut and let her arms relax. The tension resisted, then her hands finally relented and slid off the keyboard with a prolonged note. The out-of-place B flat throbbed in her ears as the song stopped. Scarlet flushed red; she'd finally met someone who could understand, and ruined it. They had been so grand playing alone, and Scarlet had inserted herself into it, ruining it with her own stupid obsession and anxieties. She nearly burst from the bench, fully intending to run the rest of the way to Grandmother's and pretending the whole thing had never happened. That this place didn't exist. And that she was Scarlet, the best-behaved daughter who would never disobey and certainly never made mistakes. She couldn't convince her body to agree, though, and felt a strong arm wrap across her shoulders and pull her in as her vision blacked.