Chapter Text
Cherry blossoms fluttered gracefully off the branches and spun softly onto the cold concrete. It was a swarm of gentle and brute pinks that took over the city’s skies. Off the center of this swarm was you. You sat on the chipped spruce, wooden bench, planted both legs onto the ground as your head tilted slightly and swiftly at the confusing, chaotic mess your dominant hand guided through the notebook. Absolute chaos, but might be a piece of work.
As your hand acted as the wand to cast the magical spells of music composition onto your beaten notebook, you peacefully glanced over your work and hummed the melodies lightly to yourself, almost like you were singing a nostalgic lullaby to yourself. The flow of writing such melodies cast a strong spell of concentration onto you, as you faintly paused, when your workflow was broken by a head poking from your peripheral vision afar.
It was a man, dressed fairly nicely, in a ruby formal suit, who screamed serious business, and an attempt to seem fancy with a handkerchief sticking out, and somehow, what stuck out the most to you was how his glasses and hair were somehow the same color, even though you couldn’t make out what color either thing was… was his hair blue? Purple? Indigo? Well, that didn’t bother you as heavily. You weren’t a painter, you were a composer!
What placed a heavy weight into your thoughts was how he kept staring at you. Eerie. Long. Stares. No blinking. Whatsoever. It wasn’t the daydreamy, warm, lovestruck stare; it was a cold, darting stare. Where the eyes squinted with attitude and a glare. A rude stare.
After a few seconds of looking at him, trying to figure out the reason why he kept on looking at you (which felt like hours!), his frigid stare and deadpan expression suddenly transformed into a sunny, reassuring smile. A comforting smile that could warmly persuade you that everything was fine, and that you should definitely make that unnecessary purchase. The smile that would make you forget you were talking to a salesman in disguise.
And that’s how the next interaction with the individual felt. He stuck out his hand firmly and smiled warmly, “Hello, it’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?” he questioned. Before you could respond, he cut you off and continued with an emphasized, “Well, I’m Lucian. However, I never got your name or saw you around here. So, could you tell me how I should address you?”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Y/N,” you responded naturally. You left his handshake on hold as you stared at his fake smile. He awkwardly let down his palm and transitioned into a point that felt like a spotlight on your latest composition. “So, you like to write music? That’s a wonderful hobby. What instrument do you play?” the questions shot out like wildfire. You answered back uninterestedly, “Yeah, I dabble in it here and there. I play the harp…” and your words transformed into an unsettling mutter where your hands flowed through the air “...but I would love to conduct an entire orchestra one day… a beautiful sounding one, the ones where they cast a spell… where… oh nevermind…”
Your unintelligible mutter was interrupted by Lucian again. “I couldn’t hear you. Could you repeat that, one more time?” You paused awkwardly as you felt the invisible weight that mumbling creepily has, and apologized for your random murmur. After your apologies, you packed everything up instantly and left in a hurry, as blank papers flew along with the cherry blossoms.
“Damn it…” You thought to yourself, “How could I let some random guy make me run off embarrassed?” You continued to jog out of the failed mess of a conversation, and when the papers flew jointly with the blossoms, Lucian waved back at you.
His tender wave morphed into a hand on his heart. He whispered to himself, “I hope to see you again, soon.”
A blank paper glided behind him, revealing messy writing. It read, “daydreams blossom when I’m with you”.