Murder To Excellence

18.

The next morning, eleven o’clock, she awoke to music – piano music to be exact. Instead of checking where it came from, she went to go shower since the previous night really had worn her out.

She walked back into the room and took one of his dress shirts, before actually going to see where the piano music was coming from. That was what she initially planned, it didn’t happen. She gave herself a tour upstairs since she hadn’t seen the entire house yet.

It wasn’t as big as his ‘actual house’, mainly because this was his getaway, but it was still really spacious. He had picked out one of the smallest houses around there, it still being more like a mansion.

She finally went downstairs and was shocked when she noticed where the music was coming from, or more who was making the music.

Raphael sat behind the piano she didn’t even know was there in the first place, with his eyebrows furrowed, being completely concentrated. Besides the fact he was looking that focused, she had never really seen him this relaxed and it was very attractive.

“I didn’t know you play.” She leaned against the other side of the piano, right across from him. “You never told me.”

“Come,” he spoke and motioned for her to come over. He scooted over a bit on the bench to let her sit right next to him. He snaked one arm around her, holding her arm which was the furthest away from and helping her place her fingers on the keys.

It went on like that for about half an hour, but she still didn’t understand anything. “Ugh, I give up!” she groaned, her fingers already hurting from the small amount of time she was ‘playing’ piano. “Who taught you how to play?”

He remained quiet again before talking, “Let me make you breakfast first, then I’ll tell you.”

“Okay…” she replied reluctantly, not really getting why he couldn’t just tell her right then. But the fact that he was about to make breakfast for her, made her other hesitant thoughts disappear.

Whenever she stayed over at his place and was hungry, he cooked for her. He rarely let her cook herself whenever he was around, he could and they weren’t going out for dinner whatsoever. She really didn’t mind, because she did enjoy his cooking and she liked the fact that he wasn’t the type of man to expect her to cook for him whenever he ordered her to. It wasn’t that she didn’t like cooking for him, it was just nice that the roles could be reversed without him complaining.

He sat across from her at the dining table, resting his head on his hands while looking at her appreciate her French toast. This was exactly what he did it for, seeing her this content.

“You were wondering who taught me to play the piano?” he started quietly. In over twelve years he had never told anyone what he was about to tell her, but he wanted her to know. She was the first person he felt like telling.

“Mhm,” she hummed, still devouring her food.

“In Greece, I used to live in a little village with both my parents,” in the meanwhile she was done eating and knew this needed her full attention since she had a feeling this went deeper than just him telling her about how he started to play, “We weren’t rich, not at all, but my parents did make sure I got what I needed and wanted.”

Him talking about his parents made her realize he had never talked about them. It didn’t bother her a lot that he never mentioned them, but sometimes she just wondered why.

“But I loved them, I really did, and I know they loved me as much as I did them. Both of them worked, I was able to school, have friends… I wasn’t complaining one bit. I don’t know what I was… a mama’s boy or if I was more attached to my father. They both, separately and together, took me out to places I desperately wanted to go to. The other children around weren’t rich either, so we all dreamt together. It was just my parents along with a few others who actually tried their best to make our little boy dreams come true a little.”