the rhythm our heart plays {breddy; twosetviolin fanfiction}

14

They don't avoid each other. In fact, it's worse. Eddy can't help but stare and when Brett catches him, he returns his gaze just as long. Like all it takes is for someone to surge forward to break the barrier that's keeping them apart. But Eddy lost his courage weeks ago when he jumped into the fray and was rewarded with a slap to the face (or mouth, rather) so it's not something he's keen on trying again any time soon. But he's starting to lose it, the way Brett keeps looking at him like that; the way he keeps giving Eddy all these mixed signals that he can't wrap his head around. It's vexing and confusing and makes Eddy lose all sense of reason, but he knows Brett's making the sound decision of keeping...whatever they have at bay because it's the right thing to do. Right?

Eddy isn't capable of making sound decisions when he's emotionally high strung like this.

But it's fine. It's whatever. Eddy thinks he can wait it out. Maybe if he waits long enough, the loud, beating pain in his chest will become nothing more than just a quiet, dull ache.

*

Eddy thinks about it again:

Hours of recording and playing games and cracking jokes until his stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

Days spent practicing together, nailing down the harmony and dying at the hands of absurd sightreading challenges and impossibly difficult pieces.

Weeks spent together on tour, performing and exploring unknown streets and odd coffee shops and nightviews, special memories and experiences shared just between the two.

Years and years of giggling and smiling over the stupidest things, comfortable and easy and completely at home.

Eddy sees Brett and thinks, I want this to last.

So Eddy doesn't want to risk it. He shouldn't risk it. Their friendship means so much to him.

But he thinks about it: The maybes. The whatifs. What could have been. What could be.

The beating pain in his chest doesn't go away.

It doesn't go away at all.

*

"I think maybe we should talk about it after all."

They're at Eddy's place again, an hour into practice for a short ensemble they're going to do with Ray later on. It's not like they're making any substantial progress, with the soulless way they're putting their hearts into it. They're distracted. Frustrated. They need a break.

"About what, the phrasing of this section?" Brett says, setting down his violin.

"You know what I'm talking about."

Brett looks at Eddy with a quiet, unreadable expression before he sighs. Almost as if resigned.

"What's there to talk about," Brett starts, gaze cast to the side. "That I almost kissed you that night in Taipei? That you almost let me do it?"

Eddy swallows. Straight to the point. Having it said so bluntly to his face like that is something else.

"You said it was nothing to you," Brett continues, tone detached and indifferent. "We both threw it down the drain and moved on. So what's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" Eddy feels annoyed, all of a sudden. "I mean, you're acting as if this doesn't bother you at all, but we both clearly didn't move on from it. Why do I have to feel like I'm the only one worrying about it?"

"So, what, you want me to be bothered?"

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is, Eddy?"

"I don't...I don't know, but it's not this."

There's something missing in this. Something that they're both too afraid to speak up about. But Eddy's too flustered to think clearly, and what's more pressing is that they're fighting right now. They never fight. That's just - that's not their thing, and Eddy wants to backpedal as hard as he can to get out of it.

Brett seems to be thinking the same thing because he's quickly changing the topic. "We're supposed to meet up with Ray at the studio soon. Let's just...get ready, yeah?"

"Right," Eddy murmurs. His fingers curl into a fist and, awkwardly, he raises it in front of him. "...We're cool?"

Brett's smile is tight, but he fistbumps Eddy anyways. "We're cool."