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Description
The rain pattered against the window. Slowly, you raised a hand and traced your fingertips on the frigid glass, feeling the delicate batters from every droplet. You watched as the sprinkles melded together and formed one large teardrop. Your eyes followed the wet trail it made as it reflected the muted light and its bluish hue. Slowly, it traveled down the pane until it landed in a small puddle. 1. 2. 3. 4. You counted each ripple until they overlapped into a blur. With a melancholy sigh, you shifted in your chair and let your hand fall in your lap.

A few feet away from your seat, a piano rested in a small circle of dim light, the top board and music rack mirroring the frames of the window. The rest of the large room being dark, Levi concealed himself in the shadows as his long, slender fingers weaved across the piano. His back slightly hunched, his face though stoic secreting a hint of sorrow, each key was pressed with deliberation. It was your favorite piece, so every note mattered. Every sound echoed within the vicinity of the room.

But, all you heard was silence.

Levi never knew why you still asked him to play. Every struck key that fell on your broken ears stabbed him in the heart. But, despite his pain, he would do whatever you asked him. Even if he rolled his eyes or retorted with a smartass comment, he still complied.

It wasn’t always like this. In the early stages of your relationship, it was actually a running gag amongst your friends that your ears were too good. You perceived every whisper, every door creak, every chirp from a nearby bird.

And oh, how you loved music.

If Levi had a dime for how often he’d try calling you only to find you nonchalantly bouncing along to whatever tune your headphones engulfed your eardrums in, he would have more money than he would know what to do with. You always listened to something. Even at night, you produced a peaceful selection of music to ease away the worries of that day. When you found out he knew how to play the piano, you nagged him at least once to play you at least one song. Unfortunately, you knew how to dig under his skin, so you’d at least annoy him into saying yes.

You rose from your seat and stretched your limbs. Lazily, you sauntered up beside the piano and dragged your fingers along the black rims. Levi watched you out of the corner of his eye. He loved it when you did this; you pressed one side of your face onto the rims and splayed your hands across the strings. Closing your eyes, you savored each little vibration from the music, in your cheeks, your head, through the bases of your fingers. They began strong, and as they shuddered through your skin. Just like ripples in water, they gently faded away before another one started again. Despite your condition, you heard the music vibrantly in your mind.

The corners of Levi’s thin lips curved into a crooked smile as he watched you drowning in your serenity. He never understood how you remained so hopeful. Of course, those first few weeks, when your illness began to finally take away your hearing, you shut down. That light in your eyes diminished entirely, but the tears refused to come. Until that first morning, you awoke to dead silence, you never cried. That disturbed him more than the actual sickness, seeing you almost wither away, as if you had given up entirely. It took him a while to snap you back into your senses. With him at your side, you better prepared for what was to come. When you asked him why he stayed with you, he merely thwacked your forehead and said,

“Everyone’s got shit to deal with. You helped me with mine. I’ll help you with yours. Besides, you’re the only one who can deal with my asshole personality.”

Despite the tears you shed that very morning your ears finally gave way, a little ray of hope still shown for you, and he created it. He helped keep things smooth for you. He helped incorporate the new rituals into your daily life to make things easier for you. Soon, that glint slowly returned to your irises. Sure, it was a little dimmer, a little sadder, but you were finally back.

As Levi continued your piece, you rose from your spot and crept up behind him. Too focused was he on the music that he failed to notice. Warmth encircled him as you slid your arms on top of his and placed your palms on the backs of his hands. With a satisfied exhale, you rested your head against his soft, black hair. His smile returned, feeling you so close to him. He curled his fingers a little higher and allowed you to better feel his movements across the instrument. The faint tremors of the strings, his scent and body heat, the diligent motions, the music ringing in your mind, you were perfectly at peace.

He would be lying to himself if he claimed that he did this only for you. No, some of this was for him too. You were the only person patient enough to tolerate and even enjoy his foul mouth and hardass attitude. You were the only one there for him at night when he jolted awake from terrifying nightmares, listened to him curse and growl until he drifted away again, even if it costed you a proper night’s sleep. You filled his life with music when he only knew a dead quietness.

Finally, he finished the arrangement. His arms slid to the bench. He stared quietly at his distorted reflection on the black keys. You took a seat next to him, a content smile gracing your features. When he caught your attention, you held up your hand up to your chin and curved it towards him in one smooth motion.

Thank you, you said.

He scoffed a little and shook his head.

“You’re damn spoiled rotten,” he vocalized and signaled back with his fingers.

Pursing your lips, you nudged his shoulder with your knuckles.

Levi just grunted. Then, he turned, took your chin in his hand and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. You gently placed your hands on his arms, urging him to lengthen it. With a quick inhale, he engaged your mouth in slow, tender movements, sending a wave of heat across your cheeks. He parted with you only to trail light, butterfly kisses down your jaw, down the line of your neck. You pressed your palm against the front of his neck. You could feel the quivering resounding in his chest as he hummed in pleasure. You loved that he let you touch him like this to help you remember what his low, sultry voice sounded like. You’d never forget it.

He smirked against your throat upon hearing your relaxed sigh. Lifting his head, he pulled you close to his chest and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear. Your heart soared as you felt his pulse beat against his ribcage as a reminder of the feelings behind the steady rhythm. His head lowered, the rims of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, he slid his fingers in your palms. You felt the heat of his whisper, sending shivers down your spine.

“I love you,” he spelled into your hand.

Description
The rain pattered against the window. Slowly, you raised a hand and traced your fingertips on the frigid glass, feeling the delicate batters from every droplet. You watched as the sprinkles melded together and formed one large teardrop. Your eyes followed the wet trail it made as it reflected the muted light and its bluish hue. Slowly, it traveled down the pane until it landed in a small puddle. 1. 2. 3. 4. You counted each ripple until they overlapped into a blur. With a melancholy sigh, you shifted in your chair and let your hand fall in your lap.

A few feet away from your seat, a piano rested in a small circle of dim light, the top board and music rack mirroring the frames of the window. The rest of the large room being dark, Levi concealed himself in the shadows as his long, slender fingers weaved across the piano. His back slightly hunched, his face though stoic secreting a hint of sorrow, each key was pressed with deliberation. It was your favorite piece, so every note mattered. Every sound echoed within the vicinity of the room.

But, all you heard was silence.

Levi never knew why you still asked him to play. Every struck key that fell on your broken ears stabbed him in the heart. But, despite his pain, he would do whatever you asked him. Even if he rolled his eyes or retorted with a smartass comment, he still complied.

It wasn’t always like this. In the early stages of your relationship, it was actually a running gag amongst your friends that your ears were too good. You perceived every whisper, every door creak, every chirp from a nearby bird.

And oh, how you loved music.

If Levi had a dime for how often he’d try calling you only to find you nonchalantly bouncing along to whatever tune your headphones engulfed your eardrums in, he would have more money than he would know what to do with. You always listened to something. Even at night, you produced a peaceful selection of music to ease away the worries of that day. When you found out he knew how to play the piano, you nagged him at least once to play you at least one song. Unfortunately, you knew how to dig under his skin, so you’d at least annoy him into saying yes.

You rose from your seat and stretched your limbs. Lazily, you sauntered up beside the piano and dragged your fingers along the black rims. Levi watched you out of the corner of his eye. He loved it when you did this; you pressed one side of your face onto the rims and splayed your hands across the strings. Closing your eyes, you savored each little vibration from the music, in your cheeks, your head, through the bases of your fingers. They began strong, and as they shuddered through your skin. Just like ripples in water, they gently faded away before another one started again. Despite your condition, you heard the music vibrantly in your mind.

The corners of Levi’s thin lips curved into a crooked smile as he watched you drowning in your serenity. He never understood how you remained so hopeful. Of course, those first few weeks, when your illness began to finally take away your hearing, you shut down. That light in your eyes diminished entirely, but the tears refused to come. Until that first morning, you awoke to dead silence, you never cried. That disturbed him more than the actual sickness, seeing you almost wither away, as if you had given up entirely. It took him a while to snap you back into your senses. With him at your side, you better prepared for what was to come. When you asked him why he stayed with you, he merely thwacked your forehead and said,

“Everyone’s got shit to deal with. You helped me with mine. I’ll help you with yours. Besides, you’re the only one who can deal with my asshole personality.”

Despite the tears you shed that very morning your ears finally gave way, a little ray of hope still shown for you, and he created it. He helped keep things smooth for you. He helped incorporate the new rituals into your daily life to make things easier for you. Soon, that glint slowly returned to your irises. Sure, it was a little dimmer, a little sadder, but you were finally back.

As Levi continued your piece, you rose from your spot and crept up behind him. Too focused was he on the music that he failed to notice. Warmth encircled him as you slid your arms on top of his and placed your palms on the backs of his hands. With a satisfied exhale, you rested your head against his soft, black hair. His smile returned, feeling you so close to him. He curled his fingers a little higher and allowed you to better feel his movements across the instrument. The faint tremors of the strings, his scent and body heat, the diligent motions, the music ringing in your mind, you were perfectly at peace.

He would be lying to himself if he claimed that he did this only for you. No, some of this was for him too. You were the only person patient enough to tolerate and even enjoy his foul mouth and hardass attitude. You were the only one there for him at night when he jolted awake from terrifying nightmares, listened to him curse and growl until he drifted away again, even if it costed you a proper night’s sleep. You filled his life with music when he only knew a dead quietness.

Finally, he finished the arrangement. His arms slid to the bench. He stared quietly at his distorted reflection on the black keys. You took a seat next to him, a content smile gracing your features. When he caught your attention, you held up your hand up to your chin and curved it towards him in one smooth motion.

Thank you, you said.

He scoffed a little and shook his head.

“You’re damn spoiled rotten,” he vocalized and signaled back with his fingers.

Pursing your lips, you nudged his shoulder with your knuckles.

Levi just grunted. Then, he turned, took your chin in his hand and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. You gently placed your hands on his arms, urging him to lengthen it. With a quick inhale, he engaged your mouth in slow, tender movements, sending a wave of heat across your cheeks. He parted with you only to trail light, butterfly kisses down your jaw, down the line of your neck. You pressed your palm against the front of his neck. You could feel the quivering resounding in his chest as he hummed in pleasure. You loved that he let you touch him like this to help you remember what his low, sultry voice sounded like. You’d never forget it.

He smirked against your throat upon hearing your relaxed sigh. Lifting his head, he pulled you close to his chest and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear. Your heart soared as you felt his pulse beat against his ribcage as a reminder of the feelings behind the steady rhythm. His head lowered, the rims of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, he slid his fingers in your palms. You felt the heat of his whisper, sending shivers down your spine.

“I love you,” he spelled into your hand.