Evening, gents. I'm new to this site. This following tidbit is my first ever story, I'll have you know. So, do not expect too much of it; I'm certainly not measuring up to the standards of the great Willabeth stories out there! Nothing really happens in this fic, mind you- it's pure fluff, nothing more. I hope you enjoy!
Elizabeth stared down at the smooth black and white ivory of the pianoforte, letting the stark contrast fill her senses for a moment. Then, bracing her mind, she poised her fingers and began to play. The sweet notes filled the cosily-furnished room, echoing slightly, but not dwindling on the air; just long enough for a listener to revel in it.
Her delicate hands glided over the keys, expertly picking out sharps, flats, and naturals; the piano was the only area in which Elizabeth acquired musical excellence. Her voice was nothing to fuss about, and she could never strum more than a few meagre notes on a harp. But once seated at a pianoforte, the melodies floated out naturally and beautifully.
Suddenly but gently, as her mind was locked on the music, a hand rested upon her shoulder, large and hard. But a smile raised the corners of Elizabeth's pouted lips, and she did not falter in her playing. Her fingers knew the notes; her heart knew the hand.
The hand's owner just stood behind her, unmoving, merely standing and listening to the song.
A lovesong.
Then the figure shifted and sat down on the left side of the bench beside Elizabeth, watching her hands dance. After hearing and seeing the tune, the hands slid from her shoulder to the keys beside her. And, slowly, cautiously, they began to spiderweb their way through the harmony. The new notes were not as confident or elegant as Elizabeth's, but together with hers, they mingled to fill the room with music that came from the depths of their hearts.
The two sets of hands were so different; hers were slender and soft from soap, whereas his were rough, chapped, and broad. One never would have expected to see such hands together, to play such perfectly matched music. But they were obviously made for each other, that was clear, simply in the way they waltzed across the piano, never bumping, just brushing gently.
Elizabeth struck one final resounding note, and both pairs of hands lay still, frozen across the ivory. A rugged hand groped forward and relaxed atop hers, and he entwined his fingers with her own. They both just sat there for a few instants, barely touching, and then she leaned closer into his strong shoulder, inhaling his scent- her favourite smell in the world.
His other hand stroked her face along her jawline, and Elizabeth cast her eyes to him; the look in his face mirrored the love she felt for him. Her heart leaped, as it always did when he gazed at her like that- so, not surprisingly, it did that a lot. Unable to hold back any longer, she brought her lips to his, and they shared a pure, devoted kiss.
They remained like that for a long while, clasping each other on the piano bench, their lips finding each other, their warm breaths tickling the other's face. For a blissful time, it was just them, surrounded by their love. Their hearts drummed as one, beating only for each other.
Elizabeth pulled away from a kiss just long enough to whisper in his ear:
"You are my lovesong, Will Turner."
I hope I've done Will and Elizabeth justice, cuz boy do they need it.