Piano
My approach went unnoticed. He could not hear me over the sounds of his despair. Frustration, sadness, self-recrimination, pain...his every feeling was evident in the music he played.
With an anguished moan, he slammed his hands down on the keys. The discordant note resounded in the room and I knew it was time.
It was time for him to stop blaming himself.
With my right hand, I picked out the melody he'd written for me…for us.
When he did not respond, I played it again. And again. Until, finally, he echoed my refrain.
We would get through our loss together.
Prompt: piano; requested by my friend, Twicrazreader.