Hiya guys! This is what happens when I'm sick as a dog, bored out of my mind, and watching Fantasia/Fantasia 2000! lol This is a whole lot of random, and I really have no idea where its going yet, but rest assured, faithful readers, it's not stopiing here. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to someone much awesomer than me.
Also, can you get that crazy at a piano?? I honestly don't know, but I bet you can. An excellent example is my father, who, in the daytime and/or while people are watching, he's very calm and uncertain. Thinks he's "rusty." (and he is, but that doesn't mean he's not good) But, at night, when we're all in bed, supposedly asleep...he's awesome. Wildly, happily, just being himself. Just enjoying it.
Yeah. ...Am I the only one who finds Axel playing piano (with or without a shirt on) extremely hot?
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He watched, silently, heart thrumming in time to the beautiful music as the older man tore endlessly at the ivory keys of a large majogany piano. Sweat poured in great waves over the rippling muscles of his back and arms, but his heavy panting could not be heard over the fervent pounding of the keys and pedals and notes filling the still air, surrounding the only two people in the room. The transitions between each part of each song were gorgously seamless, and his fingers appeared to glide, effortlessly disconnected from the rest of his body.
His shirt, long tossed and forgotten, lay on the floor behind him. The heat pressed and glued crimson hair to the back of his neck, and his face was flushed from the ceaseless playing. Roxas had been watching him for at least an hour already, but he'd been playing for longer than that. Much longer, by the looks of things.
It excited the young blonde to see the redhead so empassioned as he was then. It had been quite some time since Axel had really been interested in anything, but now...
Axel, completely absorbed in his tireless playing, was only faintly aware of Roxas' presence. A smile tugged at the corners of his open mouth as he threw himself mercilessly at the keys. Sheet music was nowhere to be seen. These were songs of his own creatioon, and those his mother had played when she was alive, that he'd memorized.
He bled his thoughts and feeling, furiously, joyfully, from his fingertips and into the timeless instrument, where they leapt on painted wings into the stale air. He'd long since abandoned screaming in the night. With his newfound livelihood, all that particular mode of self-expression left him was a sore throat. And a nagging feeling of immaturity.
His wild, happy, multicolored thoughts traveled cautiously to his best friend, whom he had yet to fully notice, crouched at the back of the stuffy room. It wasn't really a room, so much as a tiny storage chamber whose residents hadn't seen the light of day or tasted fresh air in twenty years. Back to Roxas.
Axel's crazy, lopsided smile softened slightly as his breathing and heartbeat slowed, calmed;his hands along with them. Roxas. His best friend. His bestest best buddy for as long as he could remember.
The pace picked up again as his passion flared. Roxas. The one he'd always been there for, who'd always been there for him.
He trembled and shook as his fingers danced faster, sang louder. Newer, stranger, recently hidden feelings bashed away at his insides. Roxas. The one he loved, and had loved forever. The one he wanted.
The one who would catch him and drag his deadweight to his bedroom when he suddenly fainted and fell off the bench from playing for three hours straight.