Symphony of Beauty | m.yg + p.jm

September 14 | 18:34

"What's that?"

"This is Rachmaninoff. I believe you're ready to play it. Go ahead, here's the audio first."

Curiously, Jimin leans over to Yoongi's phone and presses play. He feels like he's heard the name before, but isn't fully sure.

As the music begins, Jimin reads the notes of the piano's part, lips curling up at the melody that rolled and danced around. The song isn't just piano; it's a concerto piece. But, even so, Jimin's fingers subconsciously tap along to the notes on the paper as he read them.

The song moves like a melancholic dance, a soft and haunting thrill in the tunes. It crescendos and decrescendos, intensifies and softens; beautifully expressing a whole storyline through the sounds.

Soon enough, feeling like forever, but also not enough — he wants to hear the end of the story. The lovely story whirling from one end to another.

When it finishes, Jimin puts the paper up gently, barely giving Yoongi a glance as he's too into the music's flow even after it's ended.

He plays along after restarting the audio, lips in a soft smile, seemingly in love with the music. He goes on, swaying with the song and it's feelings, perfectly hitting them, messing up in a few places, but no one would've noticed with how much he was living in the melody.

Yoongi, watching him from the side, admires him. Is this what he looks like when he plays, lost in the music?

Probably not. Jimin looks absolutely beautiful, lookng like he was one with the music, as if they'd been soulmates from the day of birth. The song progresses, and the more Yoongi watches, the more he wishes he'd brought his camera to film this.

When Yoongi'd picked this piece, he didn't realize Jimin would fall for it in the first listen, the thought filling him up with pride and love.

AsJimin finishes, it feels like it's still not over. He continues to play, adding his own improvisations to it.

Yoongi can't believe Jimin; his existence, his skill, his everything. He can't believe that it was him who had the honor to teach this lovely being the door to music and so much more.

While Yoongi's thinking about the soulful moment that everything had led to, the fact that Jimin is experiencing the waltz between music and emotions, when the sound finally halts, the last note sustained with singularity.

There's a small pause of silence before Yoongi is softly clapping, the widest grin on his lips, the proudest glint in his eyes.

"And, that marks the end of our classes. Good job, Jimin. You've worked hard."

It takes Jimin a moment to process. His arms fall off the keys, eyes a little wide and confused. "It's done...? I've learned the piano?"

Yoongi nods, heart soaring like cheery staccatos, as he ruffles Jimin's hair.

"I can't even believe how you did it so fast. It's unbelievable. I'm sure it's because you practiced even after I left, I can only imagine you being that hard-working, Jiminie. I can't even express how happy I am to see that you've come this far—"

"Wait, so you won't come to my house every day anymore?"

Yoongi holds back a breath of laughter at the adorable expression of Jimin is giving him; a pout and wide requesting eyes.

"Not for lessons anymore. You don't need lessons from me anymore. But, I will come over, just for something else," Yoongi says softly, pushing Jimin's hair off his forehead. "Or rather a certain someone, someone I care about very much."

The pout stays, but Jimin nods, understanding. His pout is soon replaced by a bright beam when a realization hits him.

"Does that mean we can get married, now?"

Yoongi gives a mocking thoughtful expression. "Maybe, we shouldn't stop the lessons, after all—" a soft shove from Jimin interrupts him, making him laugh. He nods, "Yes, Jimin. It means we can get married, now. But, I'd need to ask your parents, first."

"You're so old-fashioned," Jimin complains, whining as he wraps an arm around the other.

"Am I, now? Aren't you the one who asked my parents permission, too?" Yoongi teases, a laugh leaving him when he sees Jimin getting embarrassed.

"I just wanted to be sure..." Jimin mutters, his cheeks pink.

"Well, that's okay. You're cute. Now, let's just celebrate the last day of our classes. It's been...." Yoongi calculates in his head. "Right. It's been 467 days. Since your first lesson."

"How did you calculate that so easily?"

Yoongi grins. "Maybe I've been counting?"

This makes Jimin's face light up brighter as he exudes happiness.

Yoongi then looks at Jimin, looking at his lips. "I'm going to kiss you."

"As if you've warned me bef–" Jimin's words get cut short, interrupted by a kiss, which deepens when Yoongi realizes Jimin hasn't closed his mouth from talking earlier, the progression giving each other a burst of bliss burning under their skin.

And just like that, they just kiss, pleased to be in each other's lovely presence with the piano.

"I love you."

Words left unsaid, but they aren't necessary.

They know how each other feel, the music they play, the kisses they share, the touches they feel fluttering on their skin. That's what speaks for them.

It's all a part of their song– a symphony.

The symphony of beauty.