melodies. [n alves]

synopsis: after sneaking down to play the lobby's piano, N is caught off guard by the hunter.

note: so sorry it's been so long since the last drabble. i've been focusing on so many things i didn't have time to write, but i promise you'll get one more for Rylan before the month ends. this is also written with the mindset that the hunter doesn't know how to play piano, so if yours does, just pretend <3

When N needs to wind down, they tend to reach for music. It’s been their escape for as long as they can remember. Some people find an outlet in writing, others in art, but for N, pouring their feelings out into the notes and melodies of a song works best.

Theoretically, they shouldn’t be here.

It’s nearly seven and everyone is supposed to come by N’s apartment for their monthly get-together, but instead of preparing, N has snuck down to the building’s piano. They wouldn't have to do this if they had their own, but until they can afford it—and figure out where the hell they’d put it—the lobby will have to do. Besides, the staff never seem to mind it. It’s a public instrument after all, and since N can actually play, compared to some of the people who… attempt to, it sounds much more pleasant than someone pressing random keys.

In all honesty, there’s not much to complain about when it comes to atmospheric music—unless it’s being played in the dead of the night, of course.

Eyes closed, N’s fingers glide over the keys, playing a song they know by heart: Clocks by Coldplay. It was one of the first songs they’d heard on piano—and one that helped them fall in love with the instrument in the first place.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the music when you play. Even if you’ve memorized the song, your brain is still focused on something. For N, it’s often the feelings created by the song.

As much as they adore the melody, Clocks always makes them feel… sad, in some ways. Playing things that remind them of their childhood often does that. There’s a bitter taint to everything, a sorrowness despite the hope.

N is so lost in the music that they don’t realize someone is watching until the song ends. When their fingers hit the last note, the clap startles them.

“That was beautiful,” you compliment.

N whirls around so quickly they think they get whiplash. “[name], I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I tried my best to be quiet. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“Right.” N winces, trying to recall the conversation. “Uh, thank you, by the way. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Of course. I wouldn't have said that if I didn't.”

For a moment, N doesn’t know why you’re here. But then it hits them. They're sure the dumbfounded realization is clear on their face—they've never had much of a poker face.

“Is it seven already?”

“A couple of minutes past.” Your smile is kind, forgiving in a way that washes away any of N’s worries. “I was running a little late because of traffic and the group chat said you weren’t home so, I figured the piano must have been you.”

“You know me so well.”

“We’ve only known each other for months now.” You step forward, either not noticing how N takes a sudden inhale at the movement or choosing to ignore it. For their sake, they hope it’s the former. “Do you have that memorized? You didn’t use any sheet music.”

“I don’t know how to read it,” N admits. “I taught myself how to play so my methods are a little… abstract. I mostly play by ear.”

They shift so that you get a better view. “It’s not as hard as it looks. A piano has twelve notes and eighty-eight keys in total. Once you figure out what they all are, you study the most common scales and chords. When you have that down, you can pretty much…”

N trails off the moment they look back at you, who’s looking at them with a soft admiration.

“What is it?”

“You’re adorable.”

N doesn’t think they heard you right. Their heart just about sinks into the ground, butterflies erupting in their stomach as a replacement.

You laugh at their silent reaction. “The piano, you teaching me the basics? It’s cute.”

“I probably shouldn’t have given you so much detail for someone who only asked if I memorized a song,” N replies. They wince again, if only to cover up how much their heart is pounding. Being called both adorable and cute in the span of seconds by someone they like is not, in fact, good for their health.

“I like hearing what people are passionate about.” You offer them another smile before checking your phone, likely texting the group chat. “Maybe next time when we’re not late to somewhere, you can tell me more.”

With N’s phone now facing upwards on the piano, they can see every missed call and text message. But the group can wait a moment longer. For now, all N does is sink into your eyes and smile, hoping you see how much they’d want this.

“I’d love that.”

“Good,” you reply. “We can figure out a day we’re both free on the way up.”

N doesn’t think there’s a moment they’ve left the piano feeling lighter than they do now.