Disclaimer: All characters portrayed in this fanfic are the property of CLAMP and their company people. They're not mine. Well, except that is the people that I'll be making up. :D

AN: Woohoo, I got another chapter out, and so fast too. ::Proud of myself:: Anyway, I want to finish this story before school starts, so I'm going to be writing shorter, happier chapters. :D Enjoy! And please R&R I want to know how I'm doing with this fic. ^^

A gentle melodious tune drifted through the front door and into delicate ears. The beginning of the song had started and it was slow and elegant. The melody was soothing to the soul. A deep pitch mixed with a fleeting clash of elevated notes. It was the perfect rendering of her emotions, melancholy yet attempting to be blithe.

A serene smile curved on her lips, Eriol must've bought a new CD. She loved his classical taste in music, whenever he played one of those songs, it made her feel as if the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Upon entering the house, the music seemed to be drifting from Ronan's old room.

Curious Tomoyo went to investigate. Her breath caught in her throat. Eriol was sitting at a black grand piano playing away. She didn't know he still played the piano.

He looked so caught up in playing the piece that he didn't notice her walk up behind him. Tomoyo stood there silently until he finished the number then applauded. Surprised, Eriol turned around abruptly. "T-Tomoyo." He stood up and smiled, "I didn't hear you come in."

"I didn't know you still played," she commented, running a hand against the ivory sheen of the keys.

Eriol chuckled, "I'm a bit rusty because I haven't played in a while, but you can never forget how to play..." His eyes traveled fondly over the enormous dark instrument.

"Play me something?"

Tomoyo's plea sounded innocently eager. He smiled, "Of course. What would malady wish for me to play for her tonight?"

"Bergamasque...?" Eriol raised his eyebrows and sat down. "Only if you know it. If not then anything's fine," she added softly after seeing his expression.

He responded with a shake of his head, "Debussy?" Tomoyo's eyes moistened as he started to play it slowly, once in a while hitting the wrong note.

"...Sorry. I'm don't quite remember..." the young man murmured while he played the composition. A soft smile was given in response.

Tomoyo tilted her head a bit to studied his profile. Eriol had grown into a handsome young man. Even more so then she would've imagined. Dark blue hair falling across his dim indigo, almost ebony orbs as his brows furrowed in concentration. His lean body sitting up straight in the dim moonlit room. He was truly gorgeous.

Her eyes raised above his figure to the moon shining through the large window. She remembered her days in Tomeoda with Sakura, Syaoran, Meiling, and even Eriol. Those were happy days, almost bliss if she remembered correctly. Being kids without even a care in the world. (That is except for the Clow Cards.) The vague memory of the night she left drifted into her mind.

"Miss Tomoyo!" Her maid had called. But she paid no heed, for she kept running with her backpack out the mansion and onto the dusky streets.

Her mother had forgot her birthday again. She had laughed bitterly then, her mother was never really home to care for her, her maids did that job. And though she was always welcomed in Sakura's home, she didn't want to interfere. She didn't want to become a burden. Everyone else had found a way in life, but she was left behind still trying to decide which road to take.

Sakura had turned all the Clow cards into Sakura cards. Syaoran had moved to Japan permanently to be closer to her. Meiling had made her own life back in China. And Eriol had long ago gone back to England. They all had chosen their paths. All that was left was her. She wanted a life on her own, away from all the spiteful memories.

It took her a while, but she had decided to take a plane somewhere, anywhere. Because of who her mother was, they had allowed her to take a plane to London.

She had watched the plane get farther and farther away from the beautiful lights of the town. With her forehead against the foggy window she had stared out into the wide abyss of sky. A new life would be good...

Tomoyo opened her eyes. She didn't even know she had closed them. She herself didn't even know why she picked London of all places. But it pulled at her. Why? She had questioned herself that many times, but had never found an answer. Even now, she still searched for it.

She blinked and something wet dripped onto her pale hand. Tears? Weary eyes traveled down to the dampness. Sure enough there was a tear. And more was coming, she could feel it. Her gaze then jumped to Eriol's form, who seemed to have stopped playing. Tomoyo briskly turned her back to him and wiped away the tears with her palm. When she turned to face him, he was staring at her intently, searching her misty violet orbs for answers. But she refused to give them to him. She couldn't. He wouldn't understand...would he?

Before she could say something Eriol tried to lighten the mood by playing a happier song. A bit jumpy and more cheerful tune filled the room. It caused a tiny uncertain smile to slowly spread across her face. Hesitantly she sat down next to him and watched his hands manipulate the instrument.

"How was practice?" His voice was soft, she almost didn't hear him.

Her smiled faded, "They used to ask that too..."

Eriol glanced over at her before refocusing on his playing, "Who?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Sterling..."

Eriol winced and hit a wrong note. He froze and looked over at her. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

She waved her hand to dismiss his accidental mistake, "Don't be." He watched as a calm, almost peaceful smile graced her beautiful features. "It's a good memory."

He smiled at her and jumped into another composition. When he finished, he found Tomoyo watching him with her clear amethyst orbs. "Who wrote that?" she breathed. "It was beautiful..."

A chuckle rose from his throat, "I knew you'd like it. It's by a man named Peter Tchaikowsky. He had written a whole series of compositions for the 12 months. That particular one was January's, called At the Fireside."

"Thank you."

Eriol shot her a funny look. "For what?"

"For diverting my attention from all the unhappy thoughts." She stood up and smiled down at him, "And for being such a great friend in the past months..." Tomoyo leaned down and gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek.

He watched the ballerina tiptoe to the door. She paused. "Eriol?"

"Yes, Tomoyo?"

"Can we do this again sometime?" came her hesitant voice.

"How about tomorrow night?" he offered.

A smile appeared on her lips, "I'd like that. Thank you again..."

When she was gone, Eriol blinked and let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. He somehow had brightened up her day. He grinned boyishly. It felt good to have done that.

"You're welcome," he whispered.