I'M SERIOUSLY SO TIRED RIGHT NOW AND I JUST UPDATED IT AND JESUS YOU'RE VERY WELCOME BECAUSE I JUST BOUGHT PIE AND I'M HAPPY AND hey I'm actually working

Hooo boy. Should I just build these up? Don't be mad at me, if I do D: This is gonna seem like a filler at first, I am quite aware, but it has a purpose to it c: I swear. Lol. It's kinda non-sexy, this one, but 'ey. Deal with it. (B|)
Besides that, I updated the last two chapters a couple days ago. Idk if you checked it out already, but ah, go ahead and go for this one if you have c:

Raira awoke to the sound of her father's Steinway, sending the light, elegant rain drops of pings into her mind.
Liebestraum. Franz Liszt. It was playing- a slower pace than usual. It sounded like Arthur Rubinstein's interpretation- the piano was off.

Did it need tuning, again? She could have sworn that it was tuned only a few days ago.
The Steinway... it was in grandmother's house, in London. She was in the guest room.
Walking down the stairs- it was her favorite measure. After the large, difficult notes had merged into each other, her dad eased on the sustain pedal- letting the notes drown each other out. He held the rest for 6 beats. With a piano accent- he pressed D, and continued on.
Raira sat beside the chair, soon adjusting to laying on her stomach and kicking her legs behind her. Only 8 years old.

Soon, her father finished his playing, and looked down at her. "What are you doing up, Ray?" He smiled.
"Mama likes that song." She turned to her back and raised her arms above her. "Can she hear you, still?"

Her dad looked down. "I think she'd like to hear your Liszt, honey. What say you?"
"Can I?" She gleamed. "You said I'm not allowed to touch this piano, though, right? I can only play the one in the living room. You said so."
"Oh, did I?" He laughed. "Here. I'll adjust the chair for you, shorty." He got onto his knees, and started cranking the screw on the side of it.
She pouted. "Can I play Romance, today?" She asked. "Mama said she likes that one from me, most. Granny never got to hear it, though. And, I told mama not to let her listen when I'm practicing, because I sound bad. I've been practicing, so it's perfect. Well, I think so."
"You think so?" He smiled. His smile was sad. "This height should be about right for you."
Raira's stubby legs struggled to pull herself up. She sat on the chair, and tried pressing the pedal.

Smooth. Easy. It worked out.

Testing her theory of out-of-tune, she played F a few times. It worked out, just fine, and resumed her playing- hardly messing up.
Hardly. Not never, no. Hardly.
The piece itself, with its jumps and sudden chords- was yes, very difficult to perform, but very simple sounding compared to many other of Liszt's pieces. So, yes, difficult to perform- a delight to the ear. It had a pleasant, satisfying tone to it- major.
She finished the piece with an E Minor chord, setting off the mood.

"...I passed over a G during my jump." She murmured. "I messed it up."

Raira awoke pulling herself upward, gasping for air, the sudden urge to cry.
4:58. She had only slept 5 hours.

She slipped on her socks, stood up, and walked over to the kitchen, where no one had been. No one was in the house. Not Sebastian, and- just to be clear- there was no cat, either.
Did she want a cat, still, or was she scared?
After a bit of consideration, she drew herself to the conclusion that A) She had no money to care for it. And, B) There was no way she would let it stay with her after what Sebastian had done.

"I passed over a G during my jump..." she whispered. "...I messed it up..."
What did it mean?
Was there a purpose to it?
G. Goat. Gerald. Grumpy. Grain. God. Giant. Grant. Grahams. Gummies. There were many was to portray the letter, for what she was to be told. Never before did she have a dream about the house in London. She couldn't remember anything that happened there, for she had been in such a location at an extremely young age- certainly before the age of 8. She had only gone there once, with her mother, age 4.

Sitting with a bowl of cereal, the door unlocked, and Sebastian had walked in- his coat collar reaching below his ears, and the coat itself a dark gray, with black buttons. He had a basket, with neatly folded clothing. Socks, shirts, shorts, pants, skirts, stockings, leggings. All of the above.

"You did laundry?" She groaned. "I can't let you do that. Sorry. Thank you, I mean, but I'm not letting a guest of my home do my chores. Nuuuh uh."
"Pardon?" Sebastian chuckled. "I do believe that it is simply hospitality. There is no issue with what I am doing."
He walked towards the doors, setting the basket there, and walking to the table with her.
He had a cold essence to him. He'd been outside- the smell of winter overpowered his usual peppery, minty scent. Or, at least, what she thought cold had smelled like. Cold smelled... fresh. Something to it had seemed to represent winter- not the idea of absent heat itself, no, just... the scent of it. It had an idea to it that made you say "It's cold outside, I'm putting on a jacket."

"I do believe you seem rather tired, m'lady." Sebastian frowned. "It is rather early. I planned on waking you, later on."
"With?" She eyed him.
"I assure you, I aim to be no more than a gentleman from now on." He tilted his head slightly. "Is that to your agreeing?"
She looked away from him to hide her blush. "Y-yeah. That's fine."

He stood, grabbed her milk-less, cereal-less bowl, and had slipped off his gloves, washing the bowl with warm- no, hot- water. She could see the steam clouding his red eyes- how nicely they matched him.

"Sebastian," she mumbled, at first. "how do I say this..."
After rinsing out the suds, he placed the bowl down to dry. "Yes?"
"I believe," she started. "That uh... you have, of course, had better chances at a meal than with myself." She frowned. "Why me?"
"Haven't I told you this before?" He smiled, grabbing the bottom of her chin and pointing it up towards him.
"It's simply how you are that drives me wild."

She blushed a bright red, turned away from him, and tried hiding. "I'll go back to sleep, yeah? Yeah. You can sleep, too, but you really can't touch me. Please."
Quickly, she picked up her laundry basket, shoved it into her room, and ran into her bed with the blanket wrapped tightly around her. The lights were quickly off, with the slow steps coming towards her, and a silence. Sebastian placed himself onto the bed alongside her, arms placed on his chest.

"Good n- morning, I guess." She whispered.
"Ah, I'm afraid I don't sleep, my lady." He said, his tone hushed. "I will, however, await until your slumber takes full effect, and resume to what I have left to do. Is that something you are alright with?"
She cradled herself. "I guess so."

It was soon that her quick, uneven breaths softened into long, neat breaths that were surprisingly quiet.
Sebastian smiled, as her trust in him was easily visible.
For, that was all that had been planned.

That morning, for when the woman had awoke, she had full intention of showering to inspect her body of anything Sebastian may have done to her overnight. Scared? Not exactly, no, more over; she was embarrassed.

And, of course, she felt all the more awkward when her clothes were just as she had left them, on her body. She stood, walked to the bathroom door, and opened it- Sebastian standing there, drying his hair, a towel hung lowly around his waist.

He looked at her, the towel around his neck, and smiled.
"I see, you've awakened." He spoke, his voice fluent- unlike hers, groggy and full of cracks.

"Ah, I'm afraid I don't sleep."

"I just uh..." She turned around, not being able to see his half-naked body. "...you know that there's a lock here, right on the doorknob? It's quite useful when you're not decent."
"Oh?" He said, his arms making their way to her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Well, I suppose- next time, madam- I will lock the door. Is that alright?"
She held her breath. "Y-yeah, that'd be nice."

His body was warm, and smelled nothing like what she had in the shower. Still, his smell of peppermint and cold air had stuck to him.
His arms drifted away from her, as he left the room. Raira closed the door and let it be.
Well, she had seen Sebastian... without clothes, before. Normally when Jess had tried to get her to at least look at pornography, she had refused and said it would be a waste of time.
It was something! She wouldn't be able to stare at someone whose clothes weren't apparent. Though, yes, it was... er... natural, it was something that she wasn't too fond of.

Seriously.

None of it.

She finished to readying herself, still in her black shirt that was too big for her, and blue pajama pants. she wore socks, dragging herself across the carpeted flooring. As usual, she had her all-too-fancy breakfast, a choice of drinks, and a side.

And, almost on queue, Jess called.
"Babyyyyy! I gots me a loving honey." She giggled. "He's really nice... and cute... and se-"
"NOPE." She yelled. "Just tell me his name, Jess. Jesus."
"His name's Ray! I laugh whenever I call his name, because it's also part of your name, and then I think I'm dating my best friend, and then it gets awkward, and I go hide in the corner secretly wishing that someone would come and save me because I don't wanna date my best friend but it sort of happened and RAY-RAY, WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME AS MUCH AS YOU USED TO? RAY LOVES ME AND YOU SHOULD-"
She hung up.

And, things were going better than expected.