-CHAPTER FIVE-

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Tommy almost let out a squeak when he saw the guitar. It was a clean, taken care of, wood instrument with shiny strings that attached from the base of the guitar, up to the top of it, where Wilbur slightly tightened them to tune it out.

“I haven’t played in forever,” Wilbur exhaled, less of a sigh and more of a deep breath he was holding. His fingers ran across the strings lightly, creating a beautiful sound that floated in the air, into Tommy’s ears. They sat close together on his bed, while Techno stood overlooking the two. “Have you played before?” he asked calmly.

“No, I- I haven’t.” Tommy answered truthfully, his hand gliding over the strings, but failing to actually touch them. “May..may I?”

“Go ahead,” Wilbur smiled warmly, easing the tension that innately sat between them. He slightly slid the guitar towards Tommy so he had better reach, and he propped it up just a bit into more of a playing position. Tommy strummed the strings, humming along lightly in delight at the glorious sound it made. He gently plucked one of the strings, getting a quieter, yet still soothing note.

“Can I show you something?” Wilbur gripped onto the guitar, looking over to Tommy, who just nodded as a way to say, ‘Yes, please.’ He let out an airy laugh at the almost desperate look on his face, how his teeth showed when he smiled at him, how he bit his lip in anticipation. Appeasing to him, the man delicately sat his fingers on the strings, giving a quick glance to Tommy to make sure he was looking. “If you put your fingers here,” he paused, pressing down carelessly, “you can play a different chord.” He thrummed another quiet tone, its own miniature symphony in itself. “Try it.”

This time, Tommy actually took the guitar from his hands, setting it along his shoulder, kind of how Wilbur did when he first got it out, and he replicated the movements of Wilbur, earning another graceful strain. He smiled.

“I could play something for you, if you’d like,” Wilbur offered heedlessly. Tommy’s expression lightened up. “Here,” Wilbur took the guitar from Tommy, resting it on his shoulder. “I don't have a pick right now, this is gonna hurt,” he bit his lip nervously.

But just as soon as he said that, the tips of his fingers glided over the strings, creating pleasant music that pacified the boy who hushed himself and listened. Wilbur’s eyes closed as he continued, his fingers moving through strictly by memory. The music he made was beautiful, an irresistibly bewitching sound that comforted Tommy more than anything he had heard before.

Wilbur had started to hum along with the music, a different melody that fit perfectly with what he was playing.

It was elegant, but it only lasted a moment before Wilbur was forced to stop by the yelling of his father, and maybe the pain that blistered his now slightly bleeding fingertips.

“Lunch is ready, kids!”

Techno rolled his eyes and left, while Wilbur was slow to put away his instrument and take Tommy out with him.

“That’s so cool,” Tommy was able to mumble to him in a whisper, his upcurved mouth sticking through as they walked out of Wilbur and Techno’s room.

“Kinda hurts, though. I’m gonna have to put some bandaids on my fingers.” Wilbur shrugged, sucking some of the blood out of his fingers, before shaking his hand away.

Something so beautiful could hurt that much.

“I don’t think you're supposed to play it that hard. You were going at it. Plus, you haven’t played in, like, forever. It's gonna be different.”

“No shit it’s gonna be different. But it doesn’t make the nice, loud sound unless you use a pick.”

“Sit down, sit down. I have to go, like..now,” Philza rushed them out of the hallway, walking up behind the two who were walking in, rather slowly in his opinion, and he pushed them towards the table. “Be good, uh, don’t break anything. Try not to kill each other. Techno’s in charge.”

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