Author's Notes: Sorry it took so long for the update, but I was kind of stuck on this chapter. I like the way it came out anyway. Just some more slight fluff before I get into anything serious again. Lol
Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you to the reviewers! Especially to AsWeLayInTheShadeOfPoisonTrees, who helped me get back in the writing mood :)
Also to loves-liley, raniabrawner, The happiest emo on earth, IantosHero and hpfreak2008 for the really long, great reviews :)
And of course, to every one still reading this, thanks very much :) This is gonna be a long fic, people. I'm glad you're sticking with me. Lol
Disclaimer still stands. I own nothing, people, except for the story idea.
Shakespeare Wrote
Lilly
"I'm really sorry about the other day, Oliver. Really. I don't know what got into me."
He mumbled something incomprehensible.
"Sorry?"
"I think I know what got into you…" He sounded really depressed.
I coughed, uncomfortable. "Yea?"
"Yea… You still like Miley, don't you?"
I sighed. He was my best friend. I owed him the truth. "Yea, I do."
There was a short silence before he answered. "Why didn't you just tell me? I wouldn't have asked her out."
"Because I didn't want to like her. And I thought if she had a boyfriend, I'd get over her faster… I mean, it's worked before…"
"Well… Maybe you really like her… Seriously Lills, I wouldn't have gone out with her if I knew. I'm really sorry for babbling on about it so much." He was apologizing for my stupidity? Bleh. It was really hard to stay mad at Oliver.
"I should've just told you how I felt. I'm really sorry man."
"It's ok, really. No biggie."
I smiled. "So we're good?"
"Absolutely."
---
Miley
I stood in front of the piano, contemplating it. It had been a while since I played. Actually, I don't think I've touched the piano since I moved to Malibu. Piano was the only instrument I could really play. I sang too, obviously. I think I already mentioned that I was in my school's chorus in Tennessee.
I sat down in front of it, hitting a few random notes, warming up. At this point, playing piano was like riding a bike; I never forgot it (I had started playing when I was five). Soon, I was playing a piece I had learned a few years back. It was Japanese. I had a thing for Japanese composers.
It wasn't long before I gave myself over to my music completely. When I got like this, I think the world could start falling apart and I wouldn't notice.
---
Lilly
It was around seven o'clock, Saturday night. I was bored. Oliver and I had just hung up- he had some family thing to go to; otherwise I would've been at his house. Maybe I'd go see what Miley was doing. I knew her brother worked on Saturday nights, and her dad was usually in meetings at this time. I grabbed a jacket, told my mom where I was going, and headed for her house.
Two minutes later I was standing outside Miley's door, just about to ring the doorbell (I could hear some faint noise coming from inside. It sounded like music). But then I remembered what Miley told me about knocking. She had said I could just walk in. Shrugging, I slowly turned the door knob and entered the house, and was met with a swell of music. My head swiveled to face the piano in the living room.
Wow. It wasn't just that she looked like a freaking angel, sitting there at the piano, her eyes full of concentration (It reminded me of when she was reading), her fingers moving over the ivory keys steadily and precise. No, it wasn't just that. It was that she was good. Damn good. I mean, to me, classical music isn't exactly on my most played list on my iPod, but I don't mind it at all. I considered myself a musical person, and I could appreciate all kinds of music (except for maybe rap/hip hop, 'cause I don't even consider that nonsense music).
And this. This melody was positively tugging at my heartstrings. I felt like crying, actually. I knew enough about music to be able to tell that the song was in a minor key. Slow. Soft. Beautiful.
And of course, as I said, she looked damn gorgeous playing it.
---
Miley
I loved songs in minor keys. To me, a happy, peppy song played on a piano sounded ridiculous and irritating. They were fun to play sometimes, depending, but I'd rather play a depressing song any day.
I finished the song I had been playing and was about to start another, when I had glanced up for a moment and saw Lilly sitting on the couch, watching me. In the split second that I spotted her, I noticed something. Her facial expression was… adoring. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me that way before. My dad, maybe, but never like that. Never with so much… intensity. But the expression was wiped clean off her face once she realized I had seen her. She grinned. "Hey, Maestro. That was amazing."
I smiled down at the keys. "I didn't realize you came in."
She stood up, gesturing at the door. "Would you rather I leave? I dunno, maybe you're one of those people that would rather play by themselves?"
I shook my head. "No, stay. I'm glad you're here. I was bored… Which is how I ended up playing in the first place. And I don't mind playing in front of people, usually…" I got up from the piano. "Do you want to go upstairs?"
She frowned. "Aw. I was hoping you'd play a little more?"
I blushed. "Really, I'm not that great. I just know a few songs here and there. No big deal."
She strolled over to me and the piano, looking at it. "I dunno, Miles. From what I heard, you've sure got some talent." She turned to me, and gave me a pleading look. Like the puppy dog look I gave my father sometimes, when I really wanted something. That face was impossible to say no to. Especially when you had eyes like Lilly's.
I sighed, sitting back at the piano. "Alright Lilly. If you really want me to."
She beamed. "Oh, I do."
Out of habit, I cracked my fingers, and started with some Bach.
---
Lilly
I must have sat there for half an hour, listening to her play everything in her repertoire. They ranged from classical Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, and Chopin to more modern John Williams and to Japanese Nobuo Uematsu. Her songs were pretty varied. But she put everything she had into all of them, I could tell.
My God, I loved watching her play. Maybe even more than seeing her in that black leather skirt that she wore to the concert. And believe me, that was saying something.
When she finally ran out of songs to play, she looked up at me, smiling a little, but with a slight tinge of red across her cheeks, indicating her embarrassment. I got up from the couch and joined her at the piano, running my fingers over the keys, not really pressing them. Then I looked up at her. She was looking at me as though expecting me to say something. Instead, I decided to be impulsive. Her hand was in her lap, and I reached for it, intertwining our fingers. I ran my thumb over the back of her hand, not trusting myself to say anything yet.
There was something about the way she played the piano that put me in a very romantic mood. I felt like quoting Shakespeare. Too bad I didn't know anything off the top of my head… I should read more.
So instead, I kept playing with her hands, and she let me. With every stroke of my thumb over her skin, my heart thudded out a more erratic beat. Two thumps. Five. One. Three. And there were moments where I could've sworn that my heart stopped beating all together, before picking up it's pace again.
---
Miley
I didn't say anything. I just let her run her thumb over my hand. It felt really nice. I didn't exactly know how to respond to it, so I just sat there. It wasn't like I was uncomfortable anyway… Actually… quite the contrary.
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