The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25 dot com
Prompt: # 8
Pen Name: GemmaH
Pairing/Character(s): Edward, Bella
Rating: K
Word Count: 500
Photo prompts can be found here:
thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts
"Hey, who's the new pianist?" I slip behind the bar, tying my apron around my waist. It's quiet tonight, so I allow myself the luxury of letting my eyes rest on him as he plays.
He sits with his head dipped, his fingers dancing gracefully across the keys of the baby grand. His hair is untamed and what I can see of his face is damn-near perfect; he's a definite improvement on the sixty year old former resident of the piano stool.
"I have no idea." Mike pauses as he slices a lemon at the back of the bar and glances over his shoulder at the guy. "He was already here when I arrived."
"Are you okay?" I ask him as he pulls at the neck of his shirt.
"I don't know. Is it hot in here?"
The music changes and I look back toward the piano.
"Fly Me to the Moon," I murmur.
"Huh?" Mike throws me a puzzled look.
"The song he's playing. It was my Gran's favorite." I don't have more than a minute to reminisce, as a group of people enter the bar from the lobby.
When things quieten down again, I notice Mike is deathly pale, a sheen of sweat on his face.
"Mike, go home," I order him. "I can call some back up in if I need it." He doesn't even argue.
Thirty minutes later when the last customer leaves, I close up the doors to the lounge and wander to the piano, where the pianist is still playing.
"Hey, everyone left, you know?" He glances up at me, but the music doesn't stop or falter for his lack of attention.
"Not everybody. You're still here."
"Only because I have to be. I'm not here for the atmosphere, so please don't feel you have to carry on for my benefit." I offer him a smile as I turn to walk away.
"Ah, come on. Are you saying the sound of my music doesn't do it for you?" I stop and turn abruptly, a disbelieving giggle bursting from my mouth.
"You did not just say that." He finally stops playing and runs a hand through his hair as he flashes me a self-conscious smile.
"I'm sorry, I'm not usually that corny." He's even cuter when he's embarrassed.
"Can I get you a drink?" I ask.
"That would be great. What's your speciality?"
I sigh.
"This is the part where you try to get me to say that I'm great at Orgasms, right?"
He laughs.
"A whiskey sour would be great."
Last night's memories leave a smile on my face as I walk into work.
"What time's the pianist starting?" I ask Eric.
"He's not, we don't have a replacement yet."
I frown.
"Are you sure?" Eric holds the glass he's polishing, up to the light.
"Of course I'm sure, I am the bar manager."
"Then who…?" I touch my still-swollen lips.
They're the only proof I have right now that I didn't imagine him.
Thanks to Chocaholic123 for beta'ing :)
