The violin was held between his chin and slim fingers. The tips were calloused, and bruised from playing.
He played for the royals. Oh how he hated them. He hated the whispers they shared amongst each other, the glances. The stares they had given him many times before. Looking at him with disgust for his clothes. The loose change they threw after his performance was done. It all felt like an insult, he knew they could give more than that. But he continued. He played almost every week, every day, every hour, every minute. They were his highest bidders, though he didn't know why they kept asking for him specifically. As much as he hated them, their wealth, their ignorance; they allowed him to scrape by.
Beyond them, was Madeleine. Madeleine was gorgeous. When Espresso first saw him, he had thought the blonde was a girl. The prince's hair was long and thick and entangled with curls, constantly up in a blue ribbon made of fine material only the rich could obtain. The rich always flaunted their wealth. His long lashes were straight but light in their color, and they covered his blue eyes when he looked down. He truly was a beauty, and he looked just like his mother.
There the comely man sat, high on his throne, beholding sight of the musician. He noticed the callouses. In fact, he was the only one to notice them besides the violinist himself. Madeleine looked to his palm. He saw callouses as a sign of perseverance and strength, practice and a determined heart. He silently commended the musician, nodding to himself. The other did not see, for he played with his eyes closed.
Soon, to only Madeleine's dismay, the performance was over. He rose to clap his hands, and his mother soon followed, pressuring everyone else to clap even if they didn't want to, for whatever reason. They dropped down coins for the musician.
Besides the callouses, you could tell Espresso practiced, he played elegantly, with poise. His fingers, they danced at the neck.
Not his, the violins.
Madeleine shook his head, away from his... thoughts. He barely knew the man, much less even shared a glance. With every relative attending leaving, Madeleine sat in the stands alone, gazing.
There wasn't much to look at, really. He silently watched the violinist pack, every so often sliding his hand to remove the hair in his face. He let out grunts of frustration whenever it just fell back in place. Madeleine found it quite endearing.
Espresso wrapped his hands in bandages, and let down his sleeves to cover his arms. He closed his musical case, and looked around subtly out of curiosity. His head over his shoulder, he makes direct eye contact with Madeleine.
It wasn't hard to spot him. In contrast with the scene behind him, his vest was a bright blue, and his shirt underneath was white. The colors complimented his fair skin.
The prince's eyes visibly widened. The one below looked as if he had lived several lifetimes, yet there was something so enchanting. Their color was unique and the pupils slit like a snake. Though the color almost dulled to white, there was a pink gloss to them.
Nervous due to being spotted, he shouted, "I- er.. wait a moment please!" His voice cracked, revealing a french accent which he desperately tried to hide. He thought it made him pronounce words funny.
Espresso turned back and looked at the ground with a heavy sigh. He waited for the other to reach the stage he stood on, tapping his foot. While Madeleine was approaching, he counted the change in his hands.
The blonde cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to bother, but your playing was very— nice." His mind was blanking, he couldn't stop staring up into the violinist's eyes. He prayed he didn't come off as creepy.
"Thank you." His tone was flat, and it deflated the royal. He didn't even bother to look up and face him.
It was odd for the player to barely even acknowledge he was there. It was more than odd for anyone not to. Becoming a little stressed, he sheepishly smiled and sat in silence for a while before speaking again.
Madeleine tilted his head higher to get a better view of the pile Espresso was holding. "How much did they give you?" The inner tips of his eyebrows slanted into a worried expression.
Espresso furrowed his brow, and looked down to meet Madeleine's gaze. He was shocked. Studying his expression, he didn't know whether to respond earnestly or sarcastically.
He decided. "Just enough to buy bread, meat, and water." He chose to be honest, his stare locked on the other's eyes. Even if he felt a bit ashamed to admit that, he wouldn't let anyone see it. His face stayed stern, void of any emotion.
Madeleine's jaw tightened and his teeth clenched. He cleared his throat again.
"Well, I don't think that's an adequate proportion to your skill." His eyes darted around as he dug into the pockets of his pants. "Here."
He presented a closed fist, and opened it when Espresso's hand slowly made its way over.
"Please, take it. You should be paid handsomely for your work." For the first time, he saw Madeleine's smile up close. Espresso saw the gap between his two front teeth and the way the corners curved like a Cheshire cat.
Looking back down at the money, the performer sneered a bit. He couldn't help but feel like this was something done out of sympathy.
Filled with disdain, he snatched the change and put it in his garment. "I do not need your pity."
The facade melted. Espresso didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feeling as if he wanted or needed anyone's sorrow, especially a royal. He turned away, fuming.
Madeleine reached his hand out, his fingers grazing the collar of Espresso's shirt, but he pulled back.
"Why take it then?"
It was a genuine question, no malice behind the voice.
"Do not ask me that."
The violinist snarled. At this moment, both realized that he truly needed the money.
A bit of a sick smile formed on the prince's face, albeit unwillingly. He didn't want to take advantage of the performer, no, but he took note of the doors that appeared with this knowledge. Whether they'd be opened was really up to Espresso.
Espresso looked back at him and read his face easily. His eyes narrowed in distrust and doubt, though he knew that the prince wasn't stupid. He couldn't decide who was predator and who was prey here.
The entire atmosphere of the room shifted. They both acknowledged it.
The royal's eyes were half-lidded. "So, will I see you again soon?" The same Cheshire smile showed itself again.
"Don't count on it."
Espresso knew he was right not to trust royals. But equally, the two knew what Espresso said was a lie.
