Ballet of the Hearts

Act 3

-Passacaglia, Handel-Halvorsen
-Caprice no 24, Paganini

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If it wasn't for his absolute exhaustion, Sherwin would have probably been unable to sleep that night. He was giddy beyond measure, but luckily enough that particular feeling only filled him with adrenaline long enough to allow him to get back to the dormitories and crawl into bed, before the redhead's eyelids drooped and he fell fast asleep. Hunger was what woke him, unsurprisingly, cramping his stomach early next morning and getting him out of bed even before the attendants came to wake the boys.

Bare feet met floorboards, and Sherwin shivered at the icy feeling that climbed up his system through his soles, and seemingly directly to his brain, making him grimace. Winter was approaching, the leaves of the trees outdoors more abundant on the ground than on the bare branches. Not only that, but there was a repetition scheduled today with the orchestra proper, one that was supposed to be a preparation for the great Christmas concert. The conductor was going to be present, so the unspoken agreement was that he didn't have to go and do his share of work in the hidden sheet music library that evening (or he hoped, nevertheless). Jonathan would be there as well, but the chances were that they would not cross paths, just stay on their designated routes and play their part as instructed.

A dopey smile crept onto Sherwin's face as he shuffled his way around the dormitory quietly, being careful not to wake the other sleeping boys. The notes he had received, both of them folded and safely pressed against his heart in his pyjama pocket, felt heavy and reassuring. The events of the night before were real. Jonathan had been there, his fingers still tingled from their contact with the piano keys whilst the patches of bare skin Jonathan had touched burned like they had been scalded. He raised a hand and patting the pocket absently, just to check whether the weight he felt there was not simple wishful thinking, and was answered with the comforting rustle of paper.

He was now in the cafeteria, a warm mug of tea held between his palms whilst his slow morning brain caught up with the exact content of the second note, and he had to knock back the boiling hot infusion all in one go in order to not giggle, or emit some other kind of undignified noise that he would have to owe up to. He must have looked like a right idiot anyway, sitting there alone and with a large smile across his cheeks, as obvious as the nose in the middle of one's face.

No one commented on his behaviour however, and he finished off his beverage in peace and managed to make his way back to the dormitory, get his bookbag together and get dressed, before heading down to classes. Strangely, he managed to concentrate enough to take notes and understand a minimum of what was being said. Conversations were lost on him though, as everytime he had time to think about anything, his thoughts would automatically make him replay the events of the day before. There they had been, there they had shared a moment lost in music, the interlacing notes filling time whilst space itself held its breath, nothing visible on the exterior apart for the movement of their hands, the slight shuffle of their shoulders, sometimes Jonathan's foot working the pedals to inflect a note or mute another. Everything that happened did so on the inside, in their minds, in their thoracic cages, in a dimension invisible to anyone other than them.

That was the moment Sherwin started humming. Most people were used to this habit he had, but it must have been a little too loud for the graveyard-silence imposed in the maths classroom.

"Mister Payne! We all know you're in love by now, no need to express it so vocally and disturb class with your nonsense!"

There were a few snickers, but all in all, the main, and most mortifying reaction she got was the turning of every single one of the student's heads in the room his way. Some eyes were narrowed, some brows furrowed, some whispers exchanged, sounding harsh and like snake hisses in comparison to the music in his mind that had now all but vanished with dread and anticipation. Sherwin quailed, sinking into his seat so far that he nearly fell out of it.