So This Is The Place?

Arden slowly opened the door to the mansion. "Wow," she breathed, looking around. The interior was even finer than the exterior, which she hadn't thought possible. She had heard rumors of how nice it was, and how kind the proprietor was to everyone. This was the house where many people came by to practice their musical skills on the enormous grand piano. Feeling a bit odd, she herself went to sit on the bench, and stretched her fingers. It wasn't her home, and it was weird to just walk in and treat it like it was. But nevertheless, she pressed her fingertips to the ivory keys, and began to play.

At first, it wasn't very pretty. Her skills were dusty, and she hit quite a few wrong notes. But as she kept playing, she remembered her lessons as a girl, and her stuffy old piano teacher, Mrs. Teroas, who drilled chords and songs into her head. She dug those chords and songs out of the recesses of her mind, and then, she was playing like she had when she was a teenager. Which was surprisingly decent, at least in Arden's opinion.

"How did I end up here?" He mumbled to himself--he was already lost in a small town. Well, he figured it wouldn't be very hard to end back on the original pathway since this town was all on one little cobblestone walkway. There were no cars or bright flashing lights here, which just made everything more to his liking. But now he stood in front of the large manor, probably the only large home he would see in a long time--though probably minuscule compared to his own home. But it didn't matter so much to him. Adel had walked up near the door, and he could have sworn to have heard music playing inside.

Now would it be rude of him to just waltz on into the house? It probably would, but he had passed some people earlier talking about the old woman who had owned this place--how she would just let anyone in and out of her house. She must have been very kind. He took the decision upon himself and walked in, quietly and carefully not to disturb the musician who was playing. So he stood to the side, listening to the woman--he had assumed she was a woman--as she played through some tunes. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to lean against the wall and waited for her to conclude her little concert.

So lost was she for a time in her music, Arden didn't notice anything odd about the atmosphere, which had suddenly shifted. She was honing in only only her sense of hearing, and her sense of feel. Though the feeling was more metaphoric than literal...like waves, little bridges of sound.

It was only when she concluded, letting the song drift away on the tails of the end notes, that she started to return to earth. She sat still for a moment, simply breathing.

A small sound, tiny, unnoticeable to most, startled her. She whirled around, afraid that she would see the owner of the house glaring at her, and demanding her out. She was already spitting out an apology as she turned to face her company.

"I'm so-..." She stopped in her tracks when she saw a male standing there, watching. Her cheeks colored. How long had he been standing there? She stood up from the bench. "I'm sorry," she said, finishing her sentence. She folded her hands and ducked her head a bit. "I didn't see you there. Were you waiting to use the piano?"

The way she was playing, intrigued him for a moment then it slowly faded when she finished up her song. She sat there for a moment when she finished. He took his weight off the wall, causing a creeking sound from the wooden floor. He was about to be found out, so he just stood there as she began to stutter out some sort of apology. He furrowed his brows together, "Why are you apologizing?" He questioned, "A musician shouldn't be sorry for their sounds." He continued. She questioned him about the piano. He tilted his head to the side for a moment, "I wasn't intending to be seen, but I was found." He sniffed, "And no, I didn't even know there was a piano here until I heard you playing it." Of course he took note of the piano behind her--it was perfect for him, a perfect way to get away and just practice since no one appeared to be home, unless--. "Are you the owner of this manor?" He questioned.

"I wasn't apologizing for the music," she said. "I was apologizing for...for..." She sighed, and half-heartedly threw her hands up. "I don't know what I was apologizing for, actually." She absently placed her hand on the piano and leaned her weight against it. She didn't recognize the man; he must've been fairly new. Well, she would've been able to figure that out just because he asked her if she owned the mansion. She almost laughed aloud, but composed herself. "No, I don't own this house," she said, looking around at the large foyer. "It's a nice thought, but... the kind lady who does own this place allows people to come and use her piano. It's a very close-knit community; she has no reason not to trust anyone."

She gestured to the piano, hand still on it. "Would you like to play?"

He walked a bit towards the piano as she spoke, only half listening to what she was talking about, "Then what was the point?" He spoke, keeping his violet eyes on the grand piano before him. It was quite the instrument and true, he hadn't practiced in a long time. He turned his attention to her for a moment, "Ah, I see." Then she didn't really serve any purpose to him if she didn't own the house. He furrowed his brows together once more, "Just allows anyone in? Interesting."

His mind wandered a bit--it was certainly interesting to him. Perhaps Adel could make use of that offer some time soon. But then she offered him a chance to play. He eyed her cautiously as he moved towards the piano bench. "I suppose one song wouldn't hurt." He mumbled--the German didn't often play for an audience, but something in that moment, maybe it was the way the light from the sun hit the soft woodwork that put him in a bit of a better mood. Some short and something quick, he had to practice just once today. He pressed his fingers on the keys, Bach's Fugue, the shortened version of course.

"Oh, I don't know," she sighed. "I guess there wasn't really a point." She winced at how wishy-washy she sounded, especially in comparison to the composed, cool man who was now sitting at the bench.

She watched as he began to play, although he seemed to hesitate a bit because she was standing by him. She backed up a little bit, and, as the music filled the room, she was entranced. Despite her awe, she couldn't help but feel like she was intruding on an incredibly personal moment - he didn't seem like the type to share much with other people.

She backed away a little more, until she was standing by the winding staircase. She sat down on the bottom stair and closed her eyes.

"Wow," she breathed. He was good. He was really good. It was like this was what he lived to do. Maybe it was.

Adel only nodded, sitting down when she had spoken, tuning her voice out. It wasn't anything really necessary that he just had to hear. He paused for a moment, with his hands resting on the ivory keys--she seemed to back away, that actually made Adel feel a bit more comfortable to play. So, he began to play. He closed his eyes and just allowed the music to take him, guiding his hands over the keys with the correct notes and the sounds just forming together to create such a sound that he found so beautiful.

Coming to an end, he thought he had heard her make a soft comment, in which he merely turned to face her on the bench with a somewhat amused look on his face.

Arden opened her eyes when the music stopped. "Wow," she repeated, louder this time. She was going to offer up her praise when the male turned around, with a somewhat smug, expectant look on his face. Something about that was off-putting: like he had given her some little treat by letting her listen to him play, like it was some huge privilege and he wanted her to shower him with grateful praises.

She raised an eyebrow, but then shook her head. No, she must've been mistaken. He couldn't have meant that much with a single glance. "You're very good," she said softly. "Much better than I. Of course, you must practice more than I do. You have quite a love for the instrument."

That time he had heard her soft mumble, he leaned his forearms upon her thighs and nodded weakly, then spoke spoke up again, he calmly listened whether or not the remarks towards his playing were good or bad, he just listened. "Thank you." He responded, "Anyone can be a good as I." He spoke, he shrugged then, "It comes with dedication, devotion, and practice." He told her. He spent his whole life playing, practically devoting his life to the piano. "It is my profession, my life." He straightened himself up, "I suppose you can say it's my love."

Arden nodded her head, pretending like she understood. She loved music, but it wasn't her life. It wasn't her passion, as much as it seemed to be for the man in front of her. She was more of the mothering type - at least, she liked to think she was. She liked to take care of people, liked to help make them perfect, at least as far as their health went.

This man didn't need any help in the "perfect" department. He was resting his arms on his legs, while remaining in perfect posture. She wondered how that was even possible. He was utterly composed, never once breaking from his musical trance.

"It must be nice, to have something you love so much. I'm envious." She stood up and straightened her clothes, and then turned to face him. "My name is Arden," she said with a meek smile. "Thank you for letting me listen to you play, Mr..."