Pale.
Pale, gentle fingers slid against the hull of the Grand piano that sat in the house.
Gently, his fingers found their home against the cold keys of his quiet friend. A friend who had not spoken a word since many years ago.
A friend who he had abandoned.
"There aren't enough words in the world to express how sorry I am."
He whispered to the object.
He wanted to play, but yet, he could not get his fingers to move.
Hesitant.
Should he?
His hands slid from the keys, processing the question at hand.
His eyes scanned over the paper which had been left there many years ago, a failed attempt at a dream.
The notes flooded his memory, each little rest and quarter note scattering about in his brain as he inhaled sharply.
"How odd.." he managed to mutter, hearing the noise in his head as if he were playing it with his own hands.
A spark?
Yes, a spark.
One that ignited inside of him like a lapping flame.
Laying his nimble fingers against the black and white tiles, the euphoric feeling of home flooded his body, sending shivers up his spine.
A small smile graced his lips as he tenderly pressed the keys, the sound of the Grand piano echoing throughout the room and causing the man to grin.
"Beautiful, friend." He whispered, beginning to play a piece that had burned itself into his memory as a young boy.
He played for many hours until he could not see the glint of sunlight against the piano's black body.
The male sat in amazement and wonder, pondering deeply as to why he had not come back sooner.
"I was stubborn." Was all he managed to form.
Running his hand over the top of the piano, he smiled, taking in the details of it that he could still see in the dark room.
Closing the door of the room, he promised that it would not be the last time that his fingers would grace the keys of his friend.
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Song of Inspiration-
Yiruma
Love Me
