My playing echoed softly throughout the silent library. It was a tune very familiar to myself, but I knew of no one else that would recognise such a melody – so I played proudly with little fear of mistake or audience. It wasn't until the addition of an underlying layer of notes ringing through my ears did I realise his presence beside me.
Swiftly, his long fingers stroked the keys of the piano and the tune merged flawlessly with my own. I knew not of what he was playing, and I can only assume that he was in the same situation concerning myself, but the symmetry of the notes chiming alongside one another that fit together like the pieces of a puzzle, caused me to doubt my thesis.
With the introduction of the chorus line, I continued to play with the scarlet tinge of nerves colouring my cheeks. It only reddened as his second hand appeared on my other side and began to add in yet another line of complimentary notes. The music was so beautiful, so enchanting, that I hardly felt the pressure behind me as he sat himself on the very stool I was positioned on.
The reality of the situation shot through me as his arms drew closer around my body to play the keys much closer to my own. Every thought commanded my fingers to keep playing, keep on playing – more importantly, keep playing the correct notes. A slip up now and shame would forever haunt this growing moment between him and myself.
The chorus faded into the break and I began to pick up the second verse, my fingers – to my amazement – did not slip up. Even as he drew his head closer to carefully watch what I was playing, and his warm, moist breath tickled the skin of my neckline. Only moments later, his fingers began to rhythmically play more notes to accompany mine. The melody flowed as I added chords to the tune, my body began to sway back and forth with the expression of the heart felt tune. Terrifyingly enough, I felt his chest expand and begin to move with mine.
Not only did our fingers stroke the same tones, but also our bodies moulded into the song itself – lost within the lullaby. How I had longed for such an encounter with him.
He kept to himself, not a word other than business to those around him. Yet I knew him, and I fear that he knew me too. Our previous moments of passion imprinted his being onto my heart, but I knew, oh too well, that the feeling was not reciprocated. How could someone like him, ever fall for someone like me.
I'd begged the gods for a moment with him, a true moment that wasn't clouded by momentary pleasure or feeling, just a spare few seconds to demonstrate just what I could mean to him. I knew I was asking for the heavens themselves – I just had to try. If anything, he was worth it.
Our playing built to an ultimate crescendo of pent up tension within the melody and the final chorus sang into the atmosphere around us by our continuous playing. I offered my soul to whoever would take it just to let this song last as long as it possibly could.
The final stroke of the keys on my part left me shaken and tense, sat bolt upright between his thighs with his arms finishing his enchanting tune around me. As his gloved fingers struck their final, delicate notes, an inward sigh pulled down my previous hopes and I closed my eyes – waiting for him to vacate the library. My waiting felt like hours condensed into a matter of seconds, and only when I felt pressure on my leg did I fall back into consciousness and the realisation that I still wasn't alone.
My curious eyes wandered to see one hand placed upon my thigh, and just as I was about to turn to trail my eyes up his arm, my jaw was caught within the fingertips of his other hand. My neck was turned swiftly to the side and I felt a cold bruising of his lips upon my own.
Every sense within my body froze with the touch of his icy skin. The hand on my thigh seemed to become more and more pressurised as I held still against him. I didn't know what to do; should I move? Should I respond? Should I push him off and run? Was it even possible to overpower him? My mind told me the obvious answer and something inside giggled deviously away.
The sensation of leather clutching my chin fell away as his hand clasped at my neck instead, his fingertips massaging gently with the varying pressure of his lips. The symmetry of his movements only tensed up my muscles more. If that weren't enough, the roughness of his kiss increased tenfold as I felt his tongue penetrate my mouth.
I was, in no sense, ready for his increase of passion and so I couldn't help the gasping moan that escaped my throat and dissolved between our entangled lips. To my surprise, the only response I detected was a deep murmur of laughter that vibrated down his tongue and inevitably over mine. It was sensational.
My nerves began to cease with a stronger, much more active feeling: passion. My once stationary tongue began to writhe around his. Not to my surprise, I couldn't force it past his lips as his tongue dominated mine to keep us both firmly between my own lips. To be honest, I could not have cared less. If he were to violate me in every possible way within the four walls of this library, I would not hesitate to comply or attempt to complain.
The slow withdrawal of his tongue signalled to me the end of our intense moment and I obeyed, instantly pulling away as I predicted his want to get back to his work. Alas, the grip around my neck halted me in my tracks and left our lips mere millimetres apart as I stared fearfully into his eyes. Those liquid-green, cat-like eyes bearing down, searing through my mind and reading my soul as if it were open on display. And I was his to read. I held no barriers for him to cross, no puzzle for him to decipher. Whether he wanted it or rejected it, I could not hold myself away from his being.
Every fibre of his being drew me in and I knew, no matter what, I would always remain utterly entranced by him.