(no subject)
Dinner is well on the way to being done, and since nothing needs immediate and careful attention, Zechs is not in the kitchen. He is, in fact, sitting on a bench before a piano. His eyes are closed, his face uncommonly serene as his fingers find their way flawlessly through Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The piece has always relaxed him; even though he was unable to play very often during his tenure in OZ, his fingers remember it without hesitation.
Music and flying have always been two of his great stress relievers, and he's in desperate need of relief at the moment. Zechs isn't used to company, and the prospect of having both Une and Mariemaia visiting is a bit unsettling.
Anyone just outside can hear the music, but most probably they'll think it a recording. After all, the man doesn't really seem the type, does he? And if someone is out there, will they knock now or wait until the piece's conclusion?
Music and flying have always been two of his great stress relievers, and he's in desperate need of relief at the moment. Zechs isn't used to company, and the prospect of having both Une and Mariemaia visiting is a bit unsettling.
Anyone just outside can hear the music, but most probably they'll think it a recording. After all, the man doesn't really seem the type, does he? And if someone is out there, will they knock now or wait until the piece's conclusion?