Metronome (FOB FanFic ft. Tyler Joseph)

Chapter 18

I walked down the empty hallways, dried tears streaking my cheeks and my hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. I was headed towards the one room I thought I'd never go back to.

I approached the closed door and peered through the window. He was sitting at his desk, doing what seemed to be grading papers.

I raised my fist and hit the door three times. He lifted his head up and looked at me over the thick rim of his glasses. He tore the glasses off of his face and stood up. My hand wrapped around the doorknob and I turned it, pushing the door in.

"Evelyn," He greeted, straightening the front of his suit jacket, "What a surprise to see you here. Did you get the note I left you?"

"No..." I answered apprehensively, closing the door behind me and starting to approach him, "What note?"

"Oh, I just left you a note that night telling you how you blacked out in my car and I had to bring you up to your room." He walked around his desk and sat down on the edge, "I mean, it wasn't important or anything. I just didn't want you waking up thinking that we..."

"That we had sex."

His cheeks grew a deep shade of red, "Um, yeah, I guess you could put it like that. I was going to say thinking that we slept together, but yeah, you get the point." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, avoiding my gaze by staring down at his feet.

I bit my lip and took a step closer to him, "Well, uh, thanks for the reassurance, but...that's not what I came here for."

"What did you come here for, then? Because I've got an evening class in a few minutes and-"

"You can cut if with the tough guy act," I interrupted him, the corner of my lip perking upward, "I know you're a softie."

"I am not a softie."

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Come on, Patrick, don't deny it."

"I'm not denying anything!"

I giggled, "Sure you aren't."

He shook his head and stood back up, walking to the center of the room and over to the piano where he began to organize some sheet music. "What do you want, Evelyn?" He inquired, wanting to change the subject.

I followed him over there and leaned on the piano, opposite to Patrick, "I want you to teach me how to play again."

He chuckled and turned away from me, walking over to the wall of shelves where all of the musical pieces were stored, "You know what's funny? I thought I just heard you say you wanted me to teach you how to play again."

"You did."

"Really? Because I swear you told me that you were 'done learning how to play piano and sick of putting up with me and my arrogance'," He used my own words against me, filing the pieces of paper.

I sighed, "Yeah, but..."

"But nothing," He spun around so he was facing me, crossing his arms and keeping his distance, "Evelyn, you've made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me anymore. From that day you told me you didn't want to learn from me anymore to last night when you told me I was full of bullshit and hard to sympathize with."

"I was drunk," I tried to justify my actions.

"Drunk or not, you really hurt my feelings," He started to approach me. I couldn't resist the smirk that wanted to creep onto my face. He was so a softie. "I told you something very personal to me and you pretty much laughed in my face and told me I was being pathetic."

"Because you were! You were crying over a stupid bitch who left you with a fucking note!" I snapped at him, "If she really loved you, she wouldn't have left you with a note! She would've waited until you came back and confronted you yourself! You don't 'leave a note' telling someone you love you don't love them anymore. You tell them to their face."

"Or really? Did Tyler tell you to your face that he didn't love you anymore?"

The room began to heat up like an oven, "That...That was different."

"I beg to differ."

"You know, I didn't come here to talk about my relationship. I just wanted to know if you could teach me to play again or not. But it's obvious that you won't, so I guess I'll just be on my way." I turned on my heel and started making my way towards the door.

"Evelyn, wait!"

I stopped in my tracks, my back still to him. I heard the clicking of his dress shoes across the music room's floor as he rushed over to me. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I was spun around, my lips almost instantly being met by his. He slipped his hand underneath my jawline and shortened the distance between us, deepening the kiss. The worst part of it all wasn't even that we were in his classroom and risked being caught by someone walking in on us, inevitably getting us both expelled from the university. But the worst part was that I liked it, and I found myself kissing him back.

Patrick slowly pulled back and looked down at me, his eyes wide as he waited for my response.

"I'm so sorry," He apologized when I didn't say anything, lowering his hand to his side and starting to back away from me, "I-I don't know what came over me." I just stared at him, speechless. "Please, Evie, I'm sorry."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and ran a hand through my hair, not knowing what to say.

"Evie, I'm sorry. Please don't go. I'll teach you how to play piano again." I glanced over at him and watched as he nodded his head frantically. "Yeah, really, it's no problem. I just-"

I walked up to him and grabbed his shirt, tugging him into a kiss. We nearly tripped over each other's feet as I pushed him back into the shelves, shaking them and causing a few boxes to fall to the ground. He pulled away to catch his breath and whispered, "What was that?"

The spark I've been missing for a while, I wanted to answer, but knew if I said that, that I would've doomed myself from the start. So instead, I replied, "Just my little way of saying thanks, I guess." The corners of my lip curled up into a smile as I gazed into his worried bluish green eyes.

"Y-You're welcome," He stammered, his breaths quick and uneven. Underneath my hand that was placed on his chest, I could feel his heart beating rapidly.

Just then, the door to his classroom clicked open and a student walked in. I stepped away from Patrick and bit my lip, "So, um, piano lesson. What time works for you?" I asked, making my way over to the door.

"Uh, well, I..." He was at a loss for words. I didn't blame him, I was finding it hard to find the words to say myself. "You could, um, come by tomorrow morning. Six o'clock sound good to you?"

"Six o'clock sharp?"

"Six o'clock sharp," He repeated, recomposing himself and straightening his posture, "Not a minute early-"

"Not a minute late," I finished his sentence, winking, "Got it."