"Here." Adrien patted the seat. "I'll teach you."
He wasn't going to mention the fact that he hadn't played this piece since…
Marinette slid onto the lacquered black bench. "Here." He refocused, hands layering over her own. "Do you know the names of the keys?"
Marinette thought for a moment, then nodded. He didn't miss the heat that flushed her cheeks at how close they were.
"Ok, play a C chord— C, E, G, except I want you to play the E flat."
"The black key?" Marinette asked, poking said key experimentally. Adrien nodded. "Just play that on your right hand in a sequence— C, E, G, E, C, back up."
Marinette played it. Adrien felt a little shiver run down his spine. He loved the sound of that one specific chord. It was so haunting.
His father hated it. His father hated a lot of things.
He'd be furious if he found out I was teaching Marinette mom's song.
It wouldn't be the first secret Adrien had kept. He stabbed a pointer finger at the E flat and octave down. "Every time you play the C, I want you to play that with your left hand."
"Just that one key?"
"Yup." Adrien placed his own hands on the piano, perfectly arched fingers a stark contrast to Marinette's cute little sloppy technique. His back went ramrod straight, purely out of habit. "That's the first four measures. Then go to the D on your left hand, and play D, F, A flat on your right hand."
She did so. Adrien felt a surge of satisfaction. "You pick things up fast."
"I have a good teacher." Marinette shrugged, brushing a stray strand of blueish hair behind her ear.
"Let's try just that part," Adrien suggested, enjoying the warmth that filled him. They continued learning the piece for another thirty minutes, him stopping every once in a while to make sure she still wanted to keep going, and eventually they managed a (highy simplified) pretty good duet. Adrien smiled, relishing the notes that threaded the air around him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine…
"Let me teach you a new song, cherie." His mother's voice floated down to him and he gazed up at her, dropping his toy dolls. "This is one of my favorites."
"Okay, maman!" He heard himself warble, pulling himself up on unsteady legs and toddling over to her. Then, the sensation of air underneath him, and her legs under his. He reached up, placing his fingers on top of her much longer, prettier ones. She smiled at him. "This one sounds a bit sad. Do you think you still want to learn it?"
Adrien screwed up his face. Was he sure he still wanted to?
He looked up at his maman. Of course he did.
A flat note jerked him back to the present and Adrien stopped, hands shaking. He could feel her hands under his, moving ghostlike–
And then it was over, and reality swept over him. Marinette was staring at him, obviously concerned. "Are you… are you okay?"
"Yeah." He mumbled, wiping furiously at his eyes. "I'm fine. Just… this is bittersweet."
He didn't have to explain anymore. He could tell by the look she was giving him, the way her shoulders rounded and her grip on his arm softened. She knew.
"Thanks." He whispered.