Stellina

Shades of Blue

"It's a nice one, isn't it?" he said, now sitting on the bench. "You know what a piano is called in German?"

Lina shook her head.

"Klavier."

I want to play the Klavier. Can you teach me? she wanted to say. Instead, her eyes studied his face. Even in the dim light, she noticed a fresh cut across his temple, marring his olive skin. In fact, little cuts and bruises dotted his entire face. She furrowed her eyebrows, looking to him for an explanation.

A booming laugh escaped him, contrary to his timid movements. "Curt said you didn't talk much, and I guess he was right for once," he said, then lowered his voice. "I'm not much of a talker myself. I let my music speak for me, usually." With that, his posture straightened, and he placed his delicate fingers on the keys.

The music began more subtly, slowly taking Lina to the seaside where shades of blue bled through the night air. In that instant, she felt as if everyone in that pastry shop were merely blurs, and it was just her and the music and the German.

She sat up straight in her chair, her hands neatly folded together in her lap until the music ended and her hands broke out in applause. A true, genuine smile rested on her lips as she rose and approached the piano. When was the last time she had truly felt happy? Not obligatory joy, but pure exuberance?

Her eyes lit up as she noticed a pencil resting on the piano. Rising, she grabbed a crumpled receipt from the table and avoided Luka's gaze as she snatched the pencil from the top. Her hand itched to say the words.

She pressed the pencil to her lips, leaning against the Klavier. After remaining silent for so long, the words seemed stuck. Lina brushed a strand of hair from her temple, feeling Luka's eyes on her as he gazed up from the piano bench. Finally, she pressed the graphite against the paper. "Your fingers speak the most beautiful words," she wrote.

"Is that for me?" Luka finally asked, rising from the piano bench.

Lina nodded to the floor, handing him the slip of paper. She dared not meet his eyes as he soaked up her jagged handwriting. Seconds hung in the air. Keep looking down.

"Lina," he murmured. "This is beautiful. Thank you. I—I've never had anyone compliment me like that before..." Lina swore his hands trembled ever so slightly as he grasped the note.

She smiled, gently pulling the note from his grasp and scrawled down more words. "Can you teach me?" This time, instead of grabbing it from her, he leaned over, taking in her writing.

That crooked smile. "You want me to teach you piano?" he asked, glancing off toward the window. This time, his laugh was strained. "I mean... I don't really picture you playing the piano so much. You have to be confident in order to play in front of people, you know?" His voice was merely a lulling, gentle wave, but to Lina it felt like a roaring whirlpool.

She frowned, shooting him a glare. The fire rose inside her soul like it did when Mama yelled at her and Liliane or when Cerise pointed out all her flaws. She then averted her gaze, purposefully surveying the room. A majority of the customers had left, leaving only three remaining. Lina hoped this conversation wasn't eating too much into his playing time. She resolutely scribbled another message down. "I can do anything I want to if I want it bad enough."

His chocolate eyes flickered. "Do you want it bad enough?" he said after he read it.

Lina nodded.

He hesitated, avoiding her gaze.

Please, she silently begged. I need this.

He seemed to sense her pleading, for his expression relaxed as they met hers. "All right. When I find work that has a piano, and they let me practice on it after closing, I'll let you use it for fifteen, twenty minutes. Is that all right?" His German accent thickened on the last few words. The scars on his face kept glaring at her, mocking her. Hasn't he been through enough without dealing with a scraggly, insolent girl like you? they said.