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This was it. Verso wasn’t going to be a coward (again) and he was finally going to confess his feelings. But the question now is how? He paces back and forth across the floor of his apartment for the hundredth time as he tosses around different ideas but none of them seem good enough. None of them seem grand enough of a gesture to really show just how strongly he feels. Feeling defeated, Verso slumps down on the piano bench and sighs heavily. He presses down on a single minor key, sending a morose ripple of sound through the space.
“Merde. Why is this so hard?” he grumbles to himself.
Because you’re overcomplicating things as usual the voice in his head answers, unhelpfully.
Another sigh, another note that moves into a scale. His hands move across the keys as he closes his eyes and lets his thoughts wander. He could bring her a bouquet of roses but that hardly seems unique enough. He could make her a romantic candle lit dinner but last time he attempted to cook something it was widely regarded as inedible. Verso laughs at himself and shakes his head, his fingers still gliding across the keys almost subconsciously. The impromptu melody settles his nerves and clears his head just enough to tamp down the dread that threatens to creep up on him. Music has always been there when words seem to fail him.
And then it hits him (and he’s not quite sure why it wasn’t apparent from the start) — he’ll let music say all the words he can’t. Verso leaps up from the piano bench and grabs a stack of blank paper and ink to begin his composition.
Verso loses himself in the process of translating his emotions into notes, making sure each measure delivers the right feeling, the right intensity he needs. The last rays of sunlight fade and give way to moonlight as he plays the piece back once more.
Yes, this is it. This is exactly what he needs.
The next morning Verso makes his usual rounds, grabbing his breakfast and coffee from the boulangerie beneath his flat. There’s a seasonal winter chill in the air that nips at his nose. The city of Lumière lives up to its name, covered in an array of dazzling lights with green and red garlands wrapped around lampposts. Gold bows and bells adorn shop windows with the words ‘Joyeux Noël!’ written across them in fancy curling script. He can’t help but to think he’s inadvertently chosen the perfect time of year for his little plot.
Verso takes his pastry and thanks the baker with a smile and nod. He wants to hurry back to his flat to make some last minute changes and tweaks to his composition to make certain it is as perfect as it possible can be, but before he can get too far, he sees her there, across the plaza. Julie is beautiful in a way he can’t explain — he’s tried, but once again, his words do her no justice. She moves with the practiced grace of a dancer as she flits between friends, shaking their hands excitedly and kissing their cheeks.
His own face heats as he stands there, watching her from afar. There is a tiny kernel of hope in his heart that by the end of the night, he will be kissing more than just her cheeks, too.
A heavy hand on his shoulder breaks him out of his trance and makes his body jolt hard enough to nearly drop his coffee on the cobblestone pavement. “My, my, what are you gazing upon so intently, my friend?” Simon teases.
“Putain, Simon! You were about to owe me another cafe au lait,” Verso chides, completely side stepping his friend’s question. Simon laughs and claps Verso’s back once more and luckily (miraculously) he manages to keep a hold on his beverage.
“When are you going to finally tell her, hm?”
Verso takes a sip of his coffee and grumbles something into his cup. He knows Simon isn’t going to let him skate by without at least a semblance of an answer, but he can try anyway.
“Hm? What was that?”
“I said, I have a plan, but really I don’t see how it’s any of your business in the first place,” Verso nudges Simon with a cheeky grin, “Don’t you have something better to do than harass me anyway?”
“Verso. You have been making moon eyes at this girl for the better part of a year.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Simon rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his wide chest, “At the current moment, no, I do not. Why don’t you go over there and talk to her.” He nudges Verso toward where Julie is standing, still completely (blessedly) unaware of his presence. Verso takes a deep breath and drops his shoulders in clear defeat. He knows there’s no way he’s going to get out of this now. He shoves the rest of his pastry into Simon’s chest and grumbles something under his breath. The smug grin he knows is stretched across his friend’s face radiates into his back as Verso makes his way across the plaza.
Julie stands with her face to the sky and the sun limns her in such a perfect light that for a moment, Verso stands breathless and lost for words.
“Oh! Verso! When did you get here?” Julie’s face immediately breaks into a wide smile as she throws her arms around him like it’s nothing. Immediately, Verso feels her warmth coursing through him. His hands slide down her back slowly, like he’s savoring every tiny piece of her that connects with him. They part and he hopes that she attributes the heat rising on his cheeks again to the cold.
“Not long, just came to grab breakfast and a coffee and saw you over here so, I came to say hello.” He leaves Simon’s friendly nagging out of it.
“Well, hello yourself. Got any plans for the upcoming holiday? Doing anything with your family?”
“Actually, funny you mention that,” he takes the chance to reach out and tuck a stray lock of her soft, flaxen hair behind her ear, “I have something for you. A small…gift of sorts.”
Julie raises her eyebrows curiously but there’s that ever present almost feline mischief alongside it, “For me? Verso, you shouldn’t have!”
All Verso can think is that he should have done more but he hopes that what he did prepare will be enough to sweep her off her feet (or at least impress her enough to go on a few dates with him.) “I assure you I should have. And more, too.” He reaches for her hand and presses a small, gentlemanly kiss to her knuckles that sends a hint of soft pink blossoming across her cheeks and up to the tips of her exposed ears.
“I still have a few kinks to iron out before it’s ready for you. But if you’ll meet me down here again once the sun has set, I can present it to you properly.”
Julie raises a curious brow, “All of this and you say you should be doing more? You’re truly something else, Verso.”
“Well, we’ll see about that when you actually get it.” He silenced the self-depricating joke that tried to tag along at the end of his statement. The last thing he needed was to get in his head when he still had hours before his grand reveal.
“Either way, I will be waiting with bated breath.” Julie flashes him another broad grin and squeezes his hand. Verso lets her go too slowly for it to be just a friendly goodbye. His fingers linger on hers for far too long. They separate but there’s something that hangs in the air even long after Julie has already reached the other side of the plaza. Something he doesn’t dare name but holds in his chest to stop him from thinking that this could possibly be a bad idea.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, spent marking and tweaking notes on his composition to get them just right. He’s played the piece forwards and backwards too many times now to keep count. Deep golden rays paint the walls and floor of his flat. Now, it’s time to face the music — literally and figuratively, really.
Verso steps outside his flat, the biting chill nipping at his nose. The city hums a low tune in the dying daylight. With the holiday so close and all the preparations done, most of the inhabitants are tucked behind doors and seated around hearths with laughter on their lips and a good warm beverage in hand. It was rare that the city snowed, usually it was only cold enough in the mountains near the train station. But on the rare occasion, a few soft flakes would drift in on the wind, sprinkling the cobblestones.
Julie stood there, face turned to the sky with her eyes closed. Soft vaporous clouds plumed around her in the winter cold and Verso swore if he didn’t know better he’d have thought she was an angel in disguise. The light always seemed to fall on her in a way that made her glow. Or maybe that was just Verso’s inner romanticist bleeding through.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. It’s a touch colder than I would have thought for this time of year.”
“Not at all. I don’t mind the cold to be honest. It’s refreshing.”
“It is quite refreshing, isn’t it?” Verso holds out his hand to her, “Hopefully that means you won’t fall asleep if my uh, gift bores you.”
Julie gives him a playful nudge, “Verso.”
He only responds with a coy grin and leads her over to the center of the square. At that moment he’s not sure why he chose to do this outside where everyone in the city could see him, but it’s too late to go back on that now. Verso sits on the piano bench and hopes that this one for communal use is tuned correctly — something he probably should have made sure of beforehand but, again, no use in worrying about that now.
He pats the spot next to him, inviting Julie to sit. Her body heat immediately seeps into him, sending a frisson through his nerves. Verso takes one last long breath through his nose and slowly releases it from his mouth. It’s now or never.
Her warmth flows through him and he lets it guide him. Even with his hands stiff from the cold, Verso’s fingers begin to dance over the keys as the rich melody fills the air around them. He plays with everything he’s got, like he may never get another chance to bare his heart to her again. Her gaze is soft as she watches him in awe and it's all the encouragement Verso needs. Every word he cannot tell her, every moment he’s spent next to her, listening to her laugh and watching her smile comes through in his performance. The music wraps them up and transports them to a place that’s all their own. The cold no longer matters, there is only Julie there with him as he pours his love onto the ivory keys.
The last note rings, hanging there between them like a question. Verso holds his breath and turns toward Julie. Silvery tears line the edges of her eyes and worry immediately floods him. Did he make a mistake? Was this too much?
“That was…beautiful, Verso. Was it,” she fumbles over her words and wipes her eyes, “did you write that for—”
He releases the breath as relief rushes through him, “I wrote it for you.” He hopes she can hear everything he actually means to say in that one sentence.
“You are incredible. Absolutely incredible.”
The air between them is charged, but neither of them speak. Time seems to slow as Verso takes the chance to lean into her. His heartbeat slams in his ears but he doesn’t let himself back out. He will not be a coward. A second that feels like an eternity passes before Julie meets him in the middle and closes the gap.
A symphony crescendos in his chest as her lips meet his. He cups her jaw and holds her there, committing this moment to memory as best he can. The kiss remains chaste but they linger there, pressed together like they're both unwilling to break apart.
Soft snow flakes begin to blow in on the wind, sticking to their hair and eyelashes. A perfect end to a perfect moment.
“Joyeux Noël, Julie.”
“Thank you for the most wonderful gift, Verso. I loved it.” She leans her head on his shoulder as they sit and enjoy the quiet winter night. Together.