𝐎𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐧 // 𝐉. 𝐇

Chapter 12: A flight cancelled (part 1)

Kilig (n.): Butterflies in one's stomach

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Ophelia woke up the next morning, she rolled over to the other side and lazily opened her eyes. Blinded by the sunlight peeking through the curtains. Is it actually sunny? She thought.

Ophelia stretched across the bed like a star fish before sitting up. When she did, she was in an unfamiliar room. She rubbed her eyes hoping it was all a dream but the room remained still.

She sighed remembering yesterday's event.

'Oh yeah, I'm at Cullen's'.

Getting out of bed was tough, resisting the urge to crawl back into the sheets. A pile of neatly folded clothes were left at the dresser as well as a note. The note read:

Good morning Ophelia, I do hope you slept well. I set out some clothes for you and made pancakes. They are in the microwave. We will be back shortly.
Esme

Ophelia closed the note and began to freshen up. She folded the pajamas and placed them in the basket. Her outfit for today was a simple pair of denim shorts and a mint green box shirt. After putting on her sandles she saw the pancakes in microwave and started to eat.

Terribly bored, she toured the house looking at all the artifacts that she didn't get the chance to properly look at. 

"Amazing", she breathed. The detail on the pottery, the vibrant colors astonished her.

The next room was a library. Hundreds of books starring back at her. A red velvet chair accompanied by a mahogany side table. The perfect place to settle down after a long day or have a cup of coffee while it rains, to escape the real world.

To the right, the only source of light coming from the morning sun stood a black grand piano. Ophelia never told a soul that she played piano, not even the Émile. She considered it a secret talent. If she said so herself, she was great at playing.

I know she said i could look around but i don't even know if i can touch this piano, she said to herself. Temptation got the best of her and she sat down on the stool. Starting to warm up by playing around with chords, her hands gently pressing down the keys.

Swan Lake. Her favorite ballet since she was a child. The amount of practice she underwent to perfect the gracefulness of that a swan. That's what she was known for ever since. She earned the title, The Swan Princess.

Having made the choice of playing the main theme, she began to play. The beginning, everything is relaxed, calm and full of magic. Caressing the piano and swaying along imagining the solo at the back of her head. Closing her eyes as the ballerina danced. She pressed harder on the keys symbolizing the dramatic turn when the French horns and brass come into place

The sharp and precise movements of her hands matched her expression. Dark and cold yet romantic. This movement often made her cry. It was just to beautiful to be real.

She never played like this before, her own talent confused her at times. An applaud of hands caused her to turn around. Jasper.