Title: Come in and Listen
Author: AkaYuki2106/Yukinyan (Yay for having too many different names)
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Austria/Hungary, implied Poland/Lithuania. Prussia & England also make brief cameos.
Summary: 'She stood quietly by the door. Without turning he spoke to her, "Don't just stand there, come in and listen."' The story of how perfection and imperfection go together. AU
Warnings: Fluff overload.
Elizabeta made her way up the fifth flight of stairs. Dumping the papers on the table by the window, she looked out with a sigh. It was a sunny afternoon in the middle of July and all she wanted to be was out. She looked at the path leading to the road. Sitting under a tree were her two friends, Feliks (Polish) and Toris (Lithuanian), talking to each other, or rather Feliks was talking and Toris listening and nodding every so often. Toris looked up at the window and when Elizabeta waved he pointed her out to Feliks. He pouted, and though she couldn't hear his voice she could imagine what he was saying, something along the lines of "Come on, like, hurry up already! We haven't like, got all day." Perhaps a few more "like"s scattered in. She mouthed back "Sorry, I have to put these in the History office." He pouted again and she could almost hear his voice, loud, permeated with "like"s and "totally"s, and with that accent that, no matter how hard he tried; he could never get rid of, saying irritably "just like, hurry up." She sighed again, and picked up the papers.
The school was quiet, the only sounds the calls of the people playing sports outside, the few teachers and students still in classrooms conversing quietly, and the soft symphony of instruments floating from the music rooms. The breeze drifted in from the window, ruffling her hair. She pushed open the door to the History classroom, looking in. No-one was in. Placing the papers on the teacher's desk, she knocked on the office door. No response. She opened it, and peered in, it was empty. She picked the papers up from the desk, carried into the office, put them down on the desk and then left, practically running down to get her bag and go out to the courtyard. On her way, she decided to cut through the music rooms. She hurried down the main corridor, lost in thought. She, Feliks and Toris had planned to go to the mall that afternoon. Not having much money, they rarely bought anything, but it was still fun to look around, try on clothes, and argue about what they would buy (Elizabeta almost always wore boy's clothes on the weekend and could pull them off just as easily as the effeminate school uniform. Feliks however preferred girl's clothes and was forever bugging Elizabeta about her choice in garments. She had lost count of the times she had bought clothes and then given them to Feliks outside the shop.) Indeed, the shop assistants knew them so well that they would often start talking to Toris while Elizabeta and Feliks tried clothes on. This brought a pout to Feliks lips, and often earned him a jab in the ribs from Elizabeta. Everyone aside from Toris knew the Feliks liked him, and vice versa.
However she was stopped in her tracks by the sound of a piano. The song was simple, there was nothing accompanying it, and yet, it was beautiful. She followed the music to its source, looked it. The room was exquisite, but mostly empty, its grand space filled only by a piano and a few chairs. The piano was beautiful, but the sounds floating from it were more beautiful. The light notes floated around the room, dancing into her ears. However even more beautiful than either of these was the boy playing it. She couldn't see his face, but she could imagine it, having caught glimpses before of the flawless skin marred only once, the crystal violet eyes, the soft hair, and the reserved expression. His long pianist's fingers flowed across the keys. He was serene, more relaxed than she had ever know him to be. She sent a text to Feliks: 'You & Toris go on without me. Enjoy the time alone ;D' then stood quietly by the door. Without turning he spoke to her, "Don't just stand there, come in and listen."
She hovered by the door for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Suddenly she heard a familiar laugh, and quickly darted inside. The boy politely asked her to close the door, which she hastened to do, having no particular desire to encounter that person today. He turned to look at her, and said "Don't just stand there, come, sit down. If you want to listen you may as well do it openly." She walked quickly to the stool beside the piano and sat down, dropping her bag underneath the stool.
"You play?" he said?
"No, I'm afraid not," she replied, "I listen mostly."
"But you are interested in music?"
"Y-yes."
"Then I'm sure we will get along fine. I'm Roderich Edelstein."
"Ah, I'm ah, Elizabeta…Hedervary."
It is a joy to meet you, Miss Elizabeta." He smiled.
She smiled back, her nervousness melting as she began to feel more comfortable.
He looked at her for a few seconds, then, apparently seeing the need for no more conversation, his fingers moved back to the keys. She could see the tenseness in him fading as he began to get more into the song, losing himself in the music. She felt all the stress, all the care and worry and tiredness leave her, and slowly, she lost herself in the music too.
/Sing With You/
She had been sitting with him for a while, just listening to the music. It could take her breath away still, the way he could coax something so beautiful from such a simple instrument. She didn't recognise most of the songs, but that didn't matter, what mattered was the music, the way it flowed like a river, bringing peace to her, washing away her cares. So it was a surprise to her when the first notes rang out, a simple song she had loved for a long time, a song she had known the lyrics to for ages. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth.
"Something always brings me back to you."
He looked at her in shock.
She opened her eyes, still singing. The look he gave her awoke her from her reverie. Her voice stopped. His came, whisper soft, "keep singing." Hers rose again, unconsciously. Elizabeta was in shock, she loved singing, but she only ever sang to herself, or when she did karaoke with Feliks and Toris. But now…
"Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity."
He smiled at her. Unconsciously she smiled back. She had never been able to resist his smiles. The joy of singing and the joy of sitting next to Roderich mixed, making her voice swell. His joined in, following her, the notes mixing together. The room overflowed with noise, the piano, their voices, flooding out through the room, into the courtyard outside. Feliks and Toris, sitting on the grass, heard the voices and looked up. "Isn't that…"
Her voice rose, more confident, into the chorus. Roderich's hands flew across the piano, the noises twisting together into one sweet, beautiful sound.
"I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that,"
Their voices flowed together, reaching the climax.
"You're keeping me" breathe "down, ooh". Her voice rang out.
The song slowed, and their voices dropped low again. His stopped, letting her finish. She looked at him.
"Something always brings me back to you. It never takes too long."
The last notes rang out. Her voice dropped. The colour rushed to her cheeks, embarrassment overcoming elation as silence overtook the room. They opened their mouths at the same time. She promptly snapped hers shut.
"You have a lovely voice."
"T-thank you. You too." He smiled briefly, before looking serious again.
"If you don't mind I'd-I'd like to sing with you again."
"I'd…I'd like that too."
/Sing For You/
She leant out the window, exhausted. The stress of school had overtaken her, plus the trouble with Toris and Feliks; it had all been too much. She hadn't been to the music room in ages; she hadn't sung in ages; she hadn't felt free in ages. She had seen Roderich outside of the music room, but it wasn't the same. The music room was theirs, the place they share. It was their peace, their private joy. Elizabeta had never felt like she did in there, sitting, singing or listening, just being with Roderich. He had this sort of peace round him, a serenity which comforted her, brought calm to her. She loved it. She loved him.
He was stunning, hers but not hers, everything she wanted and everything she could never have. They were too far apart, too different. Wild, untamed Elizabeta who ran with the boys in her youth, and hung out with the outcasts now, too different, too uncouth for him. And then Roderich, oh Roderich, perfect, cultured, rich, clever, Roderich who sat with his parents in a grand home, who talked in lofty tones about topics she'd never heard about with his friends, if that's what they could be called. Roderich, who had always held himself so high above the rest, careful never to dirty his shoes. She couldn't blame him, it was how he'd been raised, but oh how she longed to be held in that same esteem, how she longed to sit in a pretty dress and talk with him about the topics reserved for him and his friends, how she longed that they would be joined by something more than this tentative link of their songs, that quiet meeting in the music room after school which could rise to new heights, as she, infected with happiness and confidence, sang out loud, smiling and seeing the joy reflected in his eyes and in his smile and hear it reflected in his voice and feel it reflected in the quivering touch of their hands as they, too shy to do more, touched the tiniest of fingers, and how Elizabeta cried when she came home, imagining just his hand in hers, nothing more, just to feel that bit more, just to have that bit more. How she longed to say what she felt, and how the words bubbled from her chest, through her throat and danced on her tongue when she saw him in the music room, and how they fled when the song ended, and she passed him in the hall, she running to her next lesson or running from Gilbert or to Feliks & Toris' warm happiness, he walking serenely, wrinkling his nose at her hurry and returning to his conversation with the gentlemanly Englishman, Arthur was his name wasn't it?
She sighed, the weight of her thoughts pulling her down, as she crossed her arms and leant her head on them, feeling the cool wind tickle her neck and brush through her hair. There was silence behind her, broken only by Roderich's quiet breathing (everything was quiet about him, the only time she'd seen him be louder was when they sung, and even then his voice was lower than hers, letting her untrained tones lead the way). Without turning or raising her head she spoke quietly, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he said, "I know you've had a lot to do, and that thing with…Feliks wasn't it? They said you were involved in that…"
Inside, she thought that her place in the matter had been wildly overstated and that it Toris who had done most of the work, she had just handled the manual things, calling the right people and making sure he had somewhere to stay. But they had wanted to keep the true nature of things under wraps, and Toris was too shy to admit his part in the thing, so she had taken responsibility and answered questions and scared away those who still meddled. Outside, she simply replied in the affirmative, her voice trailing off as disappointment that the words she's spoken weren't the ones she needed to say.
He didn't speak, just walked up to her, touching her arm lightly. "You don't have to force yourself. If you need to do other things, it's fine. I'm not important."
She turned around suddenly, her voice spilling out before she could stop herself. "You're important to me! This is important to me! This is my happiness! This is my peace! I love this! I love being here, I love sitting by your side, singing with you or listening to you! I love this place! I love…" she could feel her confidence fade. "I love y-". Her voice cut out before she could say the words. She looked at the floor, embarrassed by her outburst and her almost-confession. Had he caught the half spoken words?
"I…didn't know."
He was so beautiful. So so beautiful and so unreachable. She turned to the window suddenly, tears overflowing in her eyes. He turned, walked away. She heard him sit down, open the piano, breathe in.
The first notes rang out. His voice joined in.
"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside."
She leant forward, trying not to make a noise. What was he..?
"I don't have much money, but girl if I did, I'd buy I big house where we both could live."
She gave a tiny smile at the irony of that, still confused.
"Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen."
She froze. Oh…
"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words,
How wonderful life is now you're in the world."
Oh, it was too much. She was asking too much. She was dreaming too much. This couldn't be…This couldn't be happening. Not him. Not this song. Not to her. It was a dream. It had to be…
"My gift is my song and this one's for you."
His voice was not as soft as hers, nor was it as light, but it was beautiful like the rest of him, sweet and pure, perfect.
"And you can tell everybody, this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it's done…" Quietly he sung the last words of the chorus.
"Now you're in the world."
The final notes sounded. He was silent. She could feel him looking at her, waiting for her.
"Thank you…" she said. She couldn't say anything more; tears flowed silently down her face and choked her words. Why did she build her hopes up like this? Why did she let herself dream like this? Why did she ever pretend that he was singing that song to her, not for comfort, not so she could have some peace, not as an apology, but for something more? Why did she…why?
He stood up, walked to her, turned her gently around. She could feel the nervousness, the trepidation in his bones. She hung her head. She had let herself fall to pieces in front of him, him, perfect, motionless, a clear statue who never seemed to have emotions. She had tried to be strong, tried to hold her pain back, tried to pretend it wasn't happening, and she could deal with everything, but now, the one person she wanted to impress most, the one person who she had wanted to see her as the best she could be, had instead seen her at her worst, seen her barriers crumble and the floodgates open. One hand still on her arm, he used the other to lift her head to look at his violet eyes awash with emotion she couldn't read. He slid that hand up, shaking, to her cheek, wiping away her tears.
"Elizabeta…will…will you go out with me?"
She froze, her breath stopping. Had he just…? The look on his face confirmed it, nervous, uncertain, and yet determined. A fresh wave of tears overtook her. Before she could stop herself she ducked into his arms. He froze for a few seconds, then embraced her back.
"Yes…yes…" she breathed, smiling through her tears. He smiled back at her.
"Thank you…"
FIN.