A single repetitious note echoed through the parlor. Elliot pressed down the one key again and again. He was sure that either the ivory or his finger tip would be weathered to nothing soon enough.
Abruptly, he slammed his fists against the row of keys. A distorted tangle of noise rose from the grand piano. It sounded as if he had offended the instrument.
Elliot could almost hear a soft voice in his ear. "What did that piano ever do to you? Idiot." He instinctively glanced towards the parlor doors just to reassure himself that Leo was not standing there. Often he would silently observe Elliot, stuck to the scenery like a shadow until called out.
No one was there.
Elliot leaned backwards until his body was arched over the piano bench. He shimmied so that he was laying on the thick carpet with his legs stretched above, resting on the bench. Maybe he could sleep this way, he thought.
He had not slept at night for the few weeks he had been home. Every time he laid down, he felt racked by insomnia. His bed had become a place for his nightmares. So he had started wandering to the piano parlor instead.
The first few nights, Leo had followed him. Elliot would sit down at the piano, attempting and failing to compose something new as a distraction. Leo was never far behind him. He would give Elliot distance and make unobtrusive remarks about his piano playing. Leo never asked about the nightmares anymore unless Elliot brought them up. Elliot never mentioned the nightmares anymore unless he thought they would not upset Leo. So they talked about them rarely.
There were some days when Elliot worried that Leo was detaching himself too much. Suddenly, there seemed to be so many doors that Leo did not want Elliot to open, and Elliot always wondered if it had to do with something he had done. He thought about apologizing anyway, but Elliot was really not the apologetic type. He was not sure anyone could ever change that.
Still, when he passed out cold in chairs or couches during the day because of his sleepless nights, Leo was always there. Leo was always loosening his tie, untangling a book from his arms, and making sure he felt okay when he woke up. He might have become more silent, but he always carried the peculiar warmness that stemmed from him. From his honesty, and from that light inside of him. Elliot could never seem to put his finger on it long enough to figure out what that light was. Even after Elliot had told him not to follow when he came to the parlor at night, he was sure that Leo sat awake in his room next to Elliot's. He would wait for the creak of the door opening and closing again to tell him Elliot was alright.
