Hey, new story. Sorry, I haven't updated in a while.
"No peeking," Yamamoto said happily as he steered the Italian through the set of white double doors that lead into a room with more windows then walls.
"How the hell would I be able to see with your freakish hands covering my face," Gokudera yelled, but did nothing to remove Yamamoto's hands away from his face.
"Almost there," Yamamoto said as he continued to direct Gokudera. "Here! You can look now Gokudera," Yamamoto muttered excitedly.
"You have to remove your hands first, you idiot," Gokudera barked in annoyance.
"Oh, haha, right," Yamamoto said sheepishly as he quickly removed his hands from Gokudera's face.
Gokudera quickly opened his eyes, revealing olive green irises. His eyes swept across the room, taking everything in. His eyes quickly stopped on the only object in the room.
There in the center of the room stood a black, wooden Grand Piano.
Subconsciously, Gokudera's feet shuffled over towards the beautiful instrument. Pale hands slid across polished black wood. The light filtered in from the many windows and reflected off the glossy wood of the piano. Gokudera's eyes scanned every inch of the piano, taking in the detail. His hands ghosted over the beautifully crafted designs. The designs weaved and wrapped themselves around the surface of the piano.
There in the middle of the top of the piano stood a beautiful painting. A white paper airplane covered the majority of the top. Black, elegant cursive stood out on one of the white, folded wings. Vongola. Gokudera slid his hand across the exquisite lettering.
The Italian quickly walked to the front of the piano and lifted up the lid, revealing the brilliantly white keys. The few black keys contrasted against the many white ones. He slid his hands across the keys; memories flooding in as soon as his fingertips touched the white ivory. His hand slid to a stop on one of the keys and softly pressed down. An elegant ringing sound echoed around the room.
Gokudera gently closed the lid with an almost silent thud, and that's when he noticed it.; there in the bottom right corner of the piano top were carved letters. Golden, elegant, cursive read: To: Gokudera. Love, Takeshi.
Gokudera bit his lip to stop himself from crying. Here, all wrapped in one piano, was everything in his life that ever meant anything to him. The piano representing his mother. The paper airplane a symbol for his father figure. The inscription on the airplane represented the Tenth and his Famiglia. Then the golden words engraved into the piano were a symbol for his relationship with Yamamoto.
Gokudera turned quickly to Takeshi, tears running down his face. "How'd you know," Gokudera choked out between sobs. Gokudra didn't care that he was crying. All he could think about was the memories the piano evoked. No words could describe what the gift meant to him.
Yamamoto just stepped forward in response to Gokudera's words and wrapped his arms around the Italian. He held the storm guardian tight and let him cry into his chest.
"Thank You," Gokudera whispered quietly.
Meh, sorry it's so short. I fail at long stories, they always look longer on Word. -fayce palm-
Hope you liked it.
