
At nights when the moon is bright, you can't help but to play music.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 1,140 - Published: 03-27-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3008598
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Glimpse of the moon
It was at night when darkness lurked everywhere yes, but it was at night when his mind released from the daily routine and he was able to think more clearly. It was also at night when he could look up to the sky and see his very first friends shining gracefully. But more important, it was at night when he could see better the round shape of the moon giving bright to the ground.
The reason of this was maybe because he had an affinity with the moon that made him feel free every time he saw it, or maybe just because it had a soothing light that could assure him to relax. Whatever reason that had to do with the serenity he felt didn't matter at that moment. Because Yabun Callaghan was more occupied in glancing the magnificent full moon placed as if carefully planned at the center of the night sky, a few stars making company around it.
That cold January night when he leaned against the window of his study room –which was in reality a room filled with his instruments- with the eyes lost above the sky he felt motivation reaching his heart; he moved apart some strands of his hair away from his face, so he could gaze at the moon better, its reflection showing on his eyes. The weather was dropping yet he could barely feel the cold since only his face and hands were uncovered, although some of his breathe was starting to be visible in front of him, warming up his nose just to feel the cold again.
Yabun stayed in that position for a couple minutes more until he leaned away and walked over to his piano. Whenever he felt something strong inside his heart or when an idea struck his mind, the first object that would know of it was the piano. At first glance it wasn't something really special, just an antique piano that belonged long time ago to the royal families and now was at the room. But for him it meant something else, because ever since he was able to reach it he had found the keys responding to his feelings and thoughts, as if they could flow freely through them.
He sat in front of it and stretched his fingers, warming them a bit from the previous exposure to the chilly weather; he took another glance at the full moon and led his fingers touch the keys before starting to play, letting the music fill the room.
Images ran through his head as he changed the rhythm slowly, the notes dancing with grace as his fingers moved along, getting his body filled with a feeling of happiness, a touch of nostalgia and more than anything, the unwanted solitude he had right there but also partially granted since the song was turning from melancholic to hopelessly filled with tunes of love.
A small smile appeared on his face as his eyes softened, turning away from the keys and to the window one more time, where the white moon kept shining. Yabun changed again the pace of the song as his heart throbbed, desperately calling for the music to fill the emptiness he was feeling at that moment. It wasn't anybody's fault the small time separation but he couldn't help to feel the sadness of each minute apart. He wanted to keep his eyes opened because the moment he closed them a glimpse of red showed up inside his mind, making Yabun to miss more the source of where that red was.
Call him silly but he didn't mind at that moment. He dared to admit to himself only about how he felt, because he was still lacking the courage to say it out loud. Of course he finally achieved to say those words, after passing through a lot of practicing in front of mirrors or crystal windows, just to end up embarrassed by it. But he never regretted saying it. On the other hand, he was gathering more courage to be able to say it more frequently. That was a huge step for him, no denying there.
Yabun's eyes wandered again to the white and black keys, with a new thought in his head. How long since he said those three words? Not this year of course, but before that. His smile faded for a moment when he remembered it had been years ago. And then remembered what happened afterwards.
The music stopped abruptly when he leaned on the piano with his shoulders, his hands holding his face and fingers messing the color brands of hair. Yabun's eyes stared blankly as the question appeared in his mind 'and if it happened again?' Would he be able to recover if it occurred? He didn't want to figure that one out, neither for the same events to repeat it.
If Yabun had learnt something really well by now was the fact that you needed to learn from the past in order to not repeat the same story. There were so many places and occasions he had used that knowledge and this one was definitely another one to put it on practice. He looked up at the wall and saw the clock hanging there, as if it was annoyed for the music that stopped. Yabun sighed when it marked almost two in the morning. He then realized he had been playing straight for nearly six hours. No wonder his fingers were starting to feel a bit numb. He stood up and walked to the window, taking a last glance of the moon before closing the window and heading to his room.
He didn't bother to turn on the lights however, as the window there also reflected the moonlight, covering his floor. Stripping of his shoes and placing them besides the bed he sat on it and fell down the mattress, glancing at the drawer on his left, now adorned with a couple of pictures of people who he could now consider close to him. He sighed as he carefully took one picture, placing it above his head to get a better look of it. A reflect of red eyes stared back from the picture and the small nostalgic feeling ran down through his body. He placed the photograph back on the drawer and rolled to a side to get a better look of it, his eyelids already betraying him, wanting to send him to sleep.
Yabun yawned and fixed the pillow with one hand, his eyes closing more. He knew he had to be patient and not let his feelings play with his mind but he also knew he couldn't hide it anymore.
"I love you" he whispered to the photograph before drifting to sleep.
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