"The Pianist"

~Chapter Seventeen~

The music twists around each person; each woman wearing a gown that flies around her legs in a spin, every man is grasping their woman by the hand and twirling them in a manner that suggests intimacy. Colourful masks glisten and glitter against the candle light that surrounds and hangs on the walls. The smell of grape wine and melting candle wax fills the air and mixes with the perspiration of the dancers. A giggle escapes her lips as she's twirled and then her breath escapes her as she is caught by the two hands by the one man that is beginning to make her feel like a giddy child who is planning to steal baked goods from the kitchen.

"Having fun?" He asks, his voice deep and husky; his scent smelling of musk and...something that is just him. She relaxes instantly against him; strange how she's never felt so calm with a man- any one really -and now, she...she's calm with him as if she were with her father..or any member of her family. "Gabriella?"

"Hmm.." Daydreaming, over-thinking. She has been doing that a lot lately, especially tonight.

He smirks, feeling his way to her face with her hands; his fingers touching the edge of her eye-mask. "I asked, are you having a good time?"

She smiles, taking his hands in hers. "Yes..." she says softly, "I'm glad you invited me."

"I'm glad I thought of it." His words make her smile, a blush creeps to her cheeks. He chuckles, "you're blushing."

"How..I thought that-"

"I'm blind, Gabriella." He explains, laughing, "I can feel the heat on your cheeks." Why does he always make her blush? He smiles bigger, then his smile falters, "I would like to see you blush."

"Troy-"

"I know...about your scar," he says, whispering, his lips so close to her that he's practically kissing it. "But what you look like is a mystery to me."

"Troy-" his finger finds her lips; her soft, delectable lips that he would gladly kiss again and again.

"What do you look like, Gabriella?" her eyes look at him, his eyes- however blind -are shielded from her seeing what he's thinking. His shoulders are tensed, despite the relaxed atmosphere in the ballroom. His body is covered in blue velvet trews, a white tunic underneath a pale golden fabric waistcoat. His coat is dark blue, indigo. Black boots.

Handsome. "Gabriella?"

"Troy...we hardly know each other-"

"ARREST HER!" The couple jolts apart, but not so far apart that Troy can't grab her hand as he listens to the music stopping abruptly, the sounds of gasps, and the frantic footsteps marching and clicking toward them. His whole body stiffens; and then the voice screeches again, this time it's closer. "She stole my prized broche! Arrest her!"

Troy wraps a protective arm around her waist, moving her behind him. He may be blind, but no one but Gabriella has to know tonight this at this moment. "Stay away from her." He growls, the guards; he can hear their footsteps, there's eight.

"Move," says one of them. A gruff voice that sounds like he has inhaled to much smoke from a fire, and another who has the grasp of a constrictor catching it's prey as it wrenches Gabriella away from him and out of his reach.

"Troy!" She yells, "Troy! Please! I didn't do it! Help me!"

"Gabriella!" His voice is echoing all through the ballroom, and soon enough it's like he can't feel the presence of others; the patrons, Sharpay...Ryan. It's just him, Gabriella, and the guards dragging her away. Her voice crying out to him.

"Troy! Please! Help me! Save me! Troy!"

The echoes of the dream make him jolt away; bolting upright in his bed and sweat breaking out over his body, soaking his sheets. His chest heaving up and down; hands and fingers shaking as he tries to get Gabriella's frightened voice out of his head...it's an impossible feat, and he is failing at ridding himself of it. It's a horrid, melancholy sound...he prefers to hear her laugh. Kicking his feet over the edge of his bed, he grips the mattress; trying to slow his breathing and his heart, thinking that it's been hours since he left Gabriella's chamber to come into his and rest...

Perhaps that was a mistake to leave, his eyes widen, what if she's in danger now? If anything happens to her-

"Ow!" he curses, stubbing his toes on the stands by his bed, then stubbing his toes on the piano as he goes to the doors of his chamber. He has to check on her, see if she's all right- blind be damned, however he might have broken his toes later on...

Their nails tap the floor as they walk in circles before they lie down, their heads on their paws and their haunches flat with their tails either curled around their backside or pointing out from their bodies. Breathing evenly as sleep slowly drifts over them, and then the sound of a door hitting the wall behind it makes them each lift a head and let out a whine. Lorana stands on her all fours but David instantly pulls her down again by the tail before he stands, she whines, taps the floor with a paw; making him turn his huge wolf head and look at her. He nods slowly before running up the stairs and pausing to listen; footsteps coming from Troy's room, and with his vision as a wolf he has no problem seeing his son walking along the wall to with his hand outstretched.

What is he doing? He walks to where Troy is, nudges his hand with his wet nose and stands in front of him. He can practically hear his heart beating with the ferocity of a hummingbird's wings. "Go away..." he whispers harshly, David doesn't move; only nudges him some more with his nose. Troy shakes his head, "I am busy..." he tries to walk around David's massive furry body, but once again, stumbles. Blindness is a curse when you're walking- quite literally -in the dark. David whines and sits down, Troy sighs, leaning against the wall momentarily.

"I have to check on Gabriella.." that makes David's ears perk up and his haunches lift off the floor, he grabs Troy by the sleeve gently and helps him to Gabriella's room. Stopping in front of the door.

David whines, looking at Troy with his eyes and his tail barely wagging. "I can feel your eyes, Father...I can handle it from here." He whines again, pawing his son's foot; an action that, if David were human at this moment, would be a hand on his shoulder; signalling Troy that everything is okay. Everything will be okay. A sigh and a shake of his head later, he taps on the door gently.

No answer. "Hello?" He asks, tapping on the door a little louder...

No...no, no, no...it can't be. The sun isn't up yet, the Lark hasn't started to sing yet. Why is there someone knocking on her door? Gabriella moans tiredly, putting the fluffy pillow that lay to her left over her head as she lays unattractively sprawled across the mattress. Let her sleep...she wants to sleep. She loves to sleep.

Especially when the sun is hiding behind the horizon of the trees and hasn't risen to sing the herald of the morn. Knock knock. And then there's that knocking...

"Ugh..go away.." she gripes as she buries her face into the pillow she's using to cushion her head. Yes, she's not a before-the-dawn person. However, it's the voice that calls her name that makes her sit up; her hair all askew and her eyes tired and purple bags under them. His voice that makes her heart race, her skin heat and want for his hands...her mind race with dreams of them dancing beneath sheets and blankets.

No. She shakes her head, running a hand through her tangled locks and kicks off the blankets before stretching herself. What could he want at this hour anyway? Groaning as another knock and his voice came through again, she stands, wrapping a thin blanket around her frame, and walks to the door. Her fingers curling around the handle and turning it before pulling the door open to reveal a disheveled, tired looking Troy.

To her, he's never looked more attractive. "Troy...wha-what are doing up?" his ears perked up, as if just hearing her voice made him visibly relax- which judging by the sag of his shoulders, it did. It takes awhile for him to answer her question and when he does, it's curt and cross. Impatient.

"You took long to answer-"

"It's early...I was sleeping."

"I was knocking! Expecting an immediate-"

"Not at this hour!" She says, cutting off his words, her eyes narrowed in irritable tiredness; her voice cracks from fatigue. "Troy Bolton, I was. Asleep. If you had the gall to come to my door at this hour then you must have a different sleeping pattern!" Silence. Troy swallows before he taps his fingers against his leg, Gabriella now notices the great wolf at his side, and her heart leaps in her chest. Troy tilts his head at the sudden sound; being blind has advantages...your other senses are heightened.

"You're scared-"

"That beast..g-get...get it-"

"He's going to hurt you, Gabriella." He says, waving his hand; shooing his father's wolf form away. David takes the hint and leaves. Gabriella swallows, hugging the blanket to herself and shakes her head. "I apologize for waking you." She snaps her brown eyes to him and her gaze softens as a yawn escapes her lips.

"Why are you up anyway?"

"I..." how does he explain that he had had a nightmare about her? That he wanted to make sure she was still here? He shakes his head and vies for the obvious yet not quite truthful answer. "I couldn't sleep. Wanted to check on you." He can feel her smirk, and the heat of her blush rolling off her cheeks. Why is she blushing?

"Well...that's...sweet of you." She whispers, hugging the blanket tighter around her shoulders and leaning against the door; her eyes closing. Troy, for being blind, must have sensed that.

"I should let you sleep again..." he turns and starts feeling a long the wall, and then Gabriella grabs his hand, squeezing firmly. He stops and feels his breath hitch. Without word, he feels her walking beside him.

"Let me help." He opens his mouth to reply, but she cuts him off. "I don't like stumbling in the dark, Troy...I can't imagine how it must be for you."

He laughs, "I think I might have a few broken toes." She giggles, "well, good thing I'm helping you then." He nods, and they walk in comfortable silence until they reach his door. Should he kiss her? It's not like he hasn't before...oh, he wants to taste her again, but not just a kiss. More. He wants to taste her sweet skin, which from her hand on his, feels like velvet. Should he kiss her hand like a gentleman? No...they've already had stolen kisses, so what would that be? Still, it's polite...he has to do something!

"Good night, Troy." She begins to pull her hand out of his when he tightens his grip. "No." She looks at him, and then at their hands.

He coughs to clear his throat, "lay with me?"

New chapter(: A little troyella moment in there for you lovely people.

Next chapter, I'm going to skip ahead one week for the masked ball; cause I am itching to write it!

Question of the chapter: What do you make of Troy's dream? Premonition or no?

Tell me in a review. (At which all your reviews are greatly appreciated and wanted; just as much as your criticism. Criticism makes a better writer.)

Lot's of loves,

~Elena xxx