αмσя σмηια νιη¢ιт - English

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖎𝖊𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖚𝖘𝖎𝖈

Then one night, a note was left under my door. I climbed out of bed, on my toes to make sure that that cursed plank did not creak. I held the note by the light of the burning candle to read it. I knew immediately from who it came; that graceful handwriting could only belong to one person in the world.

"Come straight to the library. The door is open. I want to tell you something. Be quiet. X, A."

My cheeks were burning while reading the X. I quickly put on my clothes and opened the door of the dormitory, careful not to wake the other boys.

I snuck through the corridors, listening to the tapping of the rain on the windows and the breathing of the sleeping students.

The whole school was asleep. The only ones who were awake were the rain, Alastair, and me.

I opened the door of that library, which was indeed open. There was dead silence; the room seemed to be angry that I had disturbed the peaceful silence. Then I saw Alastair, standing at the window looking at the rain, and even the atmosphere seemed to smile at the presence of that sweet creature. She took it for granted that I had disturbed her peace.

All I could think about was how heavenly and wonderfully beautiful Alastair looked in the moonlight.

He turned around, and his smile pierced the silence that reigned there.

'Too bad we don't sleep together in a room," he said.

I nodded, doing my best not to think too much about what it would be like to sleep in the same room with Alastair.

'What did you want me to hear?' I asked, trying to distract myself from my tormenting thoughts.

He gestured to me to sit on my trusted armchair. He himself sat down on the piano stool. I looked at him expectantly. I had never heard him play the piano before. We often talked about music and listened to it. I knew his favourite pieces, his favourite composers, but he had never played anything, at least not in front of me.

Until this night.

He put his hands on the keys and started to play cautiously. When his fingers touched the white material and the first sounds reached my ears, a world opened up for me. The music sounded like pure magic and it enchanted me.

His fingers moved lightly and confidently over the keys, his eyes were closed and he seemed completely lost in his own world.

And I?

All I could do was sit there and stare at the beautiful creature in front of me with my mouth open.

After a while he stopped. The music faded away, his eyes opened and he looked at me with embarrassment.

'Did you like it?'

'Like it? I..' I said, 'That was... unbelievably beautiful. I don't have words for it.'

Alastair blushed because of my praise. 'Which composer is it? I've never heard it before, and I know quite a bit of music,' I said.

He looked down uncomfortably. 'I wrote it myself.'

My mouth opened. "You wrote it... yourself?" I said.

So this was what he was doing all the time. All the time we spent quietly, when I was working on my essays or poems, all the time he was bent over his papers.

'It's called Oliver.' he whispered, then he got up and walked away.