Final Movement

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The sound came not from her, but from somewhere deep inside him

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The sound came not from her, but from somewhere deep inside him. Softly at first like the mewling of a kitten hidden by its mother somewhere beyond a predator's sight, then it steadily grew into a lion's roar. A cacophony invaded his thoughts; it was one that only he could decipher. At that moment, the world ceased to exist, leaving only a narrow point in oblivion where all life sprang forth. The constant pounding in his head had also miraculously disappeared, leaving no distractions. Lured by the siren in his mind, his hands lifted without him even knowing and as his eyes drifted shut, his fingers began to caress the air.

Jaejoon was lost as he surrendered himself to music. Yet at the same time, he felt right at home. She was back. This was the chaos that he thrived in. It was one that was not induced by his vices, but by the sheer power of creation. Through his hands, he strung together notes as they flew past until they turned into a tapestry that told his story.

When he opened his eyes once more, he was welcomed by a sense of tranquility. He hadn't felt its warm embrace in years. As the world was brought back into focus, it was her face that he first saw. At some point or another, she had stopped playing and had moved closer.

Déjà vu. Like a dream, she had appeared, yet in reality, she touched him. With a hand, light as a brush, she wiped away the moisture that clung to his cheeks.

He smiled. It was the kind that showed his teeth and revealed the dimples that hid themselves at the corners of his mouth. If the recent events had made her think that he was truly crazy, she didn't show it. Instead, she had a smile on her face that mirrored his own.

Without a word, he stood and pulled her up with him, leading her towards the piano bench. There, they both sat, but this time, it was his turn to give. His gift was a song of words that he did not know how to speak. The prelude was somber, as he raged and wept against the dark that enveloped his life. At its lowest point, he pressed on the keys for so long until the sound was barely heard, almost dead. When he moved his hands again, lighter notes began appearing, scattered here and there like the first blooms in spring. Then, a movement into summer where the tempo lifted until all was covered in radiance. As his piece drew nearer to its conclusion, it slowed down, as if once again touched by the cold hands of reality. Yet unlike the beginning, the sadness of the end was interspersed with hope.

When the last notes shivered in the air, he looked towards the window and saw that the rain had stopped. The faintest rays of sunshine had begun to stream through the clouds. Having run out of tears, the gray sky was turning blue in patches. Below it, everything was covered in dew, renewed. In the aftermath of misery, lay a certain kind of beauty at the certainty that things can only go up from there.

"I guess it's time to go," she whispered beside him looking towards the door.

He sighed knowing that this angel wasn't his to keep. Although, perhaps he could make this moment last a little longer?

"My name..." he uttered, carefully forming each syllable, "...is Kim Jaejoon."

"Kim Jaejoon."

Lips like cherry, dipping his name in decadent chocolate – maybe she could be real, after all?

He wished, oh how he wished.

And so, he leaned forward and dared to have a taste of heaven.

And so, he leaned forward and dared to have a taste of heaven

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