Part 10

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Lera

I swear I have insomnia. 

It's the night of June 30th, so we've been at the beach house for officially 2 weeks. 2 weeks of restless nights, and late night runs. I swear, I'm the fittest I've ever been. 

I still don't know why I can't sleep, I just, can't? 

I'm exhausted from being busy all day in the sun, but as soon as night comes I no longer feel tired. 

It's raining tonight, the soft pattering sound echoing off our roof. As therapeutic as running in the rain sounds, it's a no from me. Tonight I'm sitting in the corner of the library room, nestled into the pillows with a blanket covering me. I have the translucent curtain draped over me, the moonlight lighting up the page of my book just enough. Tonight I've picked 'The summer I turned pretty' by Jenny Han, as it's one of my all-time favorite books to re-read in summer. And I'm slightly in love with Conrad. And I cry whenever something happens with him and Belly. I'm normal, okay?

A light crackling erupts from outside, temporarily tearing me away from my book. A light flash comes across the surging waves, lighting up the sky, as it goes. 

I can only direct my attention back to my book for a second before I hear footsteps coming from the door, before I hear the door close quietly. I peek through the curtains, and I can make out a tall shadowy figure walking towards the piano. A tall figure with messy brown hair, plaid pajama pants and no shirt. Does this boy not own a shirt?

His back faces me as he sits tall at the piano, rustling with the music sitting on it's stand. He rolls his shoulders backwards, as he sets his hands upon the keys. He begins to play, the quiet sounds of the keys flowing through the room. It's a simple tune he plays, but the notes sound sweet, the sad melody pairing perfectly with the weather outside. His muscles flex in the moonlight as he continues to play, his head rolling slightly to the beats of the music. 

I don't realize I'm crying until a cold tear runs down my cheek. First of all, I didn't even know Christian could play the piano, let alone make me cry just by playing it. I like this softer side to his personality, where he isn't afraid to express himself and actually talk to people. I like this him over the irrational, trouble making side, the side that wouldn't take a second look at me. 

My eyes are now engulfed in a sea of tears, blurring my vision of him. I bring the sleeve of my sweatshirt to my eye, wiping underneath it. Before I can react, my open book slips out of my grasp, landing on the floor with a thud. At the noise behind him, Christian whips his head around, his eyes landing on my book. 

Deciding it was time to make an appearance, I open the curtain timidly, letting go of the blanket I've got tucked under my chin as I stand up.

"Leers? I didn't even know you were in here, sorry, I'll go, sorry to interrupt you-" Christian stutters out, but I stop him before he leaves. I reach my right hand to grasp his as he turns to leave.

"No, it's okay, sorry I didn't mean to scare you, I was just reading. Don't go. I mean, you can keep playing if you want, I liked it. It was good background music for my book." I replied, looking into his eyes. Christian seems to study my face for a moment, which makes me squirm. How does he make me feel such things by just simply staring?

"Have you been crying?" he finally asks, his eyebrows knotting together as he questions me.

"Oh!" I say, quickly lower my head, wiping the tears I forgot were there. "Yeah, just the music and books make me cry sometimes. You know I'm emotional."

"Yes, yes I do," he replies, grinning down at me. 

"So, uh, I didn't know you could play piano, how long have you been playing?"

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