Note:
her pov
His pov
*talk*
It's a one shot nothing more nothing less.Like comment and what not.
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The piano played after school as it always has. Carrying that tone of sadness, the tone becoming more and more sad as the days go by.
I love hearing his playing. He use to play in the mornings as well. Sounding happy and joyful. It in turn made me happy. For some sad reason he stopped playing in the mornings. I too stopped being as happy in the mornings.
His songs became more and more sad as time went by. I too became sad at the end of the day. I wish I could sing a happy tune for him to make him smile. The first time I saw/heard him play was at a school activity. I knew then and there I was going to sing by his side.

I play my song from Beethoven. After some time the notes don't play right. I once went to music club and heard this beautiful voice.
She sang like an angel, she looked almost like me, golden bangs framed her face, instead of shooting up her hair lad down, crimson highlights in her black hair, mine lined the outside. If the highlights were natural or not I did not care.
It was her voice that truly brought me in. Just like every one else I wanted to be pared with her. Everyone pushed me aside not letting me in no mater how hard I tried. I will make a song were she would want to sing to, and not to sing for any one else. So I left to go play the piano in the room that no one uses.

I stopped singing because I was crowded. Looking around in hope to see him. All I saw was his leaving figure. I did my best not to cry, I did my best to stay strong.
I too, left saying I needed to go to the bathroom. Once I was in there I cried, I cried really hard. I could not go back to the club not looking like this.
Leaving the school I could hear the piano being played. Running to where the music played I could tel it was him playing. It would stop here, and there. I could tell the player was trying something.
A unpleasant sound came from the piano. Turning to look into the window I noticed his head was on it. He put his hands on the keys and started to lift his head, in fear I ducked my head.

I had slammed my head on the piano in anger. Tears falling freely down my face. Why does making a song have to be so hard?
Seeing something out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. I lifted my head to see what it was, but it was gone. I wonder what it was?
Returning to the piano I started to play. Beethoven's 5th movement my favorite pice. The energy to properly play the song, they way he played it. The true feelings flowed out of my finger tips and onto the piano. Tears coming down even harder now. Did Beethoven feel like this, when he could not have his love returned to him?

I noticed tears were falling down like a waterfall. I wanted to go and hug him, but what if he does not like me. I noticed people where walking around so I left. As I was walking out I was stopped by one of my classmates. *Don't bother with him, come and join us.*The boy said. I shook my head and went on home.
The next day at the same place and time. I watched him, after a little while I noticed he had bruises and cuts. I ran to the man I had in mind, finding him quicker than thought. *Why?* I shouted.

My eyes hurt from crying all night. Tears or no tears, the pain that came from it, kept me from sleep. *Leave her alone.* The voice kept on echoing in my head. No longer able to play. I got off the seat and put the dust cover back on the keys. After turning a corner I heard a shout. Knowing that voice I ran to it.
*Why did you hurt him?*
*He is a freak.*
*Even a freak needs love. Or they become what they/we fear.*
*So, he has no right to be with you.*
*Same with you.*
Was she protecting me? Why me? Did she like me, my music? *Leave me/him, us alone. You are doing harm. No music can be made like this.* With that she left. Watching her leaving figure I failed to notice him. Turning at the ora of death I saw his anger. I noticed they way him looked at me that he was still going to hurt me.

I returned to school the next day. To the sound of the piano. It played sad, hurt, lonely I walked to the tune. Before I got to the room it stopped, the music stopped. Looking in the window I could see him holding his bangs in pain, my eyes widened and I ran to the bath room. Looking in the mirror our bangs look the same. I searched my bag to find something to cut my bangs. Failing at the search I found bobby pins and a few hair clips instead. I played around trying to fix my bangs. Happy with how I did it I left to go to class. Entering I noticed he was sitting at his desk already. I started to walk towards him to say hi. My arm was harshly grabbed and I was dragged away from him.

I looked up to see her being dragged away. The sight made me mad. I noticed her bangs were hardly viewable, I rubbed my bangs/head he had pulled really hard to try rip off my bangs. Lucky that did not work. Is she trying to protect me? Why? Time went on by.

Time went on by.
We did not look at each other.

We did not look at each other.
I stopped going to music club.

I stopped going to music club.
Time went on by.

Time went on by.
I tried to make my own piece.

I tried to make my own piece.

I did not like it.

I cried,
I hated it,
I failed,

Time went on by.

It has been a little over two years now. I stand at the window like I always do.

I play the piano like I always do. I'm going to a music school, I can't say goodbye.

I wish I can say goodbye. To the man who inspired my voice.

To the angel to help my music take flight.

Oh, how I wish to love you.

I stood there no one was around. Why don't I sing. Taking a breath I stepped inside he did not hear me. Walking slowly not to be noticed by anyone. He started to play his favorite piece. Beethoven's symphony #5 in C major. Just has he began I took a couple of breaths. Starting after the to hard notes. He paused for a second not taking his eyes off of the keys.

I heard her voice playing with the notes lite-ly touching them. Wait this is just my imagination. As I continued so did she, this was the real one. Because of this I started to play happier, started to play the true tone.

My dream came true.

My dream came true.

He came to the end of the song and looked at me. My eyes soften at his happy eyes. He may try to be mature, but he is still a kid inside and I like that.

I slid a little to the side on the bench so she could have room. Taking the hint she sat down with me. I raised my hand to the side of her head to remove the pins and things in her hair to reveal her bangs. *I like it like this.* I shyly told her. She just smiled. *I-I am leaving to go to a music school.* She looked sad for a minute. *I am too. The same one.* Looked at her so meany emotions filled me up I-I-.

I smiled and put my hands on his shoulders.

I smiled and held her hand.

Our dream came true.