Love Is Symphony |✓

| 8 |

"Oh, wow. That's one nice slice of cake," you moaned through a mouthful of cake as you leaned back into your chair. A smile of content tugging at the corner of your crumb coated lips.

I held back a smile and played with the remaining cake on my plate. My dad always said that I was a talented baker and one day, I could have my own bakeshop if I worked hard enough. This motivated me and boosted my confidence. I started to believe in my ability to bake, I started to believe people when they say that I was good. Somehow, though, in this twisted world of ours, I suddenly felt conscious upon hearing the sweet compliment that slipped from your lips. It wasn't something I heard the first time. It wasn't new—it was something I expected. But with you, Sean, I had the sudden urge to curl into a ball and hide underneath the table for the rest of the evening.

With you, I felt shy.

"So, tell me. Do you live here alone?" I looked up to see you smiling at me. The sight of your stretched lips caused a rumble to erupt in my stomach—a herd of butterflies that was released upon the sight of your sparkly white teeth.

I shook my head. "I live with my dad. He's supposed to be home today, but Owen., his friend, invited him to a round of beer. He texted me awhile ago, said he won't be around till midnight."

"Oh. Maybe I can meet him next time? I mean, if that's alright with you." A smile pulled at the corners of my lips when you bowed your head and avoided my eyes, obviously embarrassed by the implication of your words.

In truth, though, I wouldn't mind if it meant more chances of seeing you and the possibilty of a blossoming friendship.

So I placed my fork down and flashed you an easy grin. "Sure. It's alright with me."

-

The wind was howling in the night, sending soft whispers in our ears, licking up our arms as we headed to the local music store—Disc Rotations.

It was rather spontaneous and impulsive of me to suggest the place where my dad worked at to lengthen the time of us being together. It was another intimate detail about me that I had shared with a stranger—to you that I've barely known over a cup of tea. Somehow though, it felt right. And as of the moment, that was enough.

It started after I hand-washed the dishes and placed them on a rack to dry. You asked me if there was anything interesting to do around the area and the first thought that popped in my head were the rows upon rows of albums, all waiting to be bought and listened to, hence the spontaneous trip to Disc Rotations at eight in the evening. In the twenty-first century, it's anything but cool, given that there were phones and laptops that could provide the latest song with just a flick of a finger. But there had always been something about the shiny discs that intrigued me - tempted me into coming back again and again.

"So, this is it. The coolest place in the area AKA my neighborhood, or outside my neighborhood - Disc Rotations." I waved my hands in front of the glass doors of the shop, before pushing it, the cold breeze of the air-conditioning easily nipping at my skin, and the sound of The Chainsmoker's latest song escaped from being obscured by the glass. The feeling sent tingles to travel up my skin and I wrapped my arms around myself to keep me warm.

I dared to take a quick look at you over my shoulder, expecting a look of disatisfaction across your handsome face, but your lips were spread into a small appreaciative smile as your eyes swept over the interior of the shop.

It wasn't much. The floors were covered in gray linoleums. The walls were dandelion in color and posters of different artists from The Beatles to Madonna to Gun N' Roses to Taylor Swift were posted on the walls, along with various decorative pieces like the ever cliché old rotating discs, and gold-plated musical notes that were hung along the walls. Across the main entrance - right in front of the album aisles, was the counter with a huge metallic desk, a blinking D!sk Rotations singnage in neon blue and a bubbly looking cashier with blonde hair.

Her name was Tasha and she was a senior in high school. Tasha was the daughter of Dad's old friend from his fraternity, and though we weren't close enough to be called friends, Tasha's bright and bubbly personality always eased the discomfort that I felt around new people.

"Serenity! Omg! I miss you!" Tasha leaped out of the counter and squeezed me into one of her infamous bear hugs.

I almost got knocked-out from the sudden force of her body colliding with mine if it wasn't for your hands that found its way to the small of my back, steadying me.

"Hey, Tash. Nice to see you, too." I awkwardly patted her back and she released me.

Tasha's bright blue eyes were wide with excitement like a child's, while I on the other hand was squirming uncomfortably with your hand still pressed to my back.

Tasha quirked an eyebrow. "Seems like you brought company. Your dad left two hours ago if you're here to introduce him to the boyfriend."

"Right, um, Sean, this is Tasha, Tasha this is Sean, a friend."

You took a step forward and stood next to me, extending a hand toward the bubbly girl. Tasha eagerly took your hand in hers and I resisted the urge to laugh at the look of discomfort that crossed your face when she released a gasp of astonishment at the sight of a tattoo curling around your forearm. "Wow. This a really cool tat. What does it say?"

Tasha pulled your arm closer to her face and scrutinized the art of ink.

I took a quick peek at you, and you were scratching the back of your ear with your free hand, your eyes meeting mine in a silent plea of help. I shook my head and playfully poked my tongue out at you.

Rolling your eyes, you returned your attention to Tasha who was still very much engrossed in your tattoo. "L' amour est une symphonie, it means 'love is a symohony'. It's French."

Tasha slowly looked up, blue eyes wide and mouth parted in awe as her grip on your arm slackened. It was a funny sight, really. How a seventeen year-old girl who usually had something to say had suddenly came speechless in your presence. "It's beautiful."

My breath hitched in my throat when you looked my way, bluish-green eyes that mirrored the endless depths of the ocean in a morning sun, meeting the gray pools of my own. Then, you slowly smiled, a gesture that made my heart beat erratically in my chest—pounding, pounding, pounding.

"It is," you whispered, voice soft and glazed with honey, tickling my insides in a soft carress of glee.

And right at that moment as we slowly melted in each other's eyes, rich and warm as everything slowly morphed into nothing, but you and me, I knew that... you couldn't have said it any better.