Until the Moon Burns

His soft, wonderful lips crashing down on mine, moving in perfect sync with mine, his hands pulling me closer to him, and I felt my heart beat tap a rhythm onto his skin.
I broke the kiss, needing to breathe, though that was hard when I looked at him. His honey gold eyes met mine, and knocked the air right out of my lungs.
“My secret?” I said, once I had taken a breath. “I’ve wanted to do that since we met.”
He nodded, my favourite crooked smile playing on his lips, and I put my hand on his sculpted cheek, pulling his lips to mine once more.
It was passionate and it was loving. The kiss was filled with everything we wanted to say, it was filled with everything we had said to each other. I raked my hands through his mess of hair, inhaling his smell, tasting his sweet lips on mine. Breaking the kiss, I smiled up at him, and sat by the piano, patting the seat next to me, telling him he should sit by me.
“Teach me to play,” I requested with my head on his shoulder again, only now it filled me with an insane happiness, like a child at Christmas with the best toy ever.
“Well...” he stuttered, looking confusedly at the piano. I thought maybe he only played from memory or by ear, but I started with what I knew.
“I know this one’s a C,” I took his hand, pressing his finger to the key. The sound it made was incredible, it sounded warmer, richer somehow.
“Yes.” He said, clearing his throat. “C, good.” He took my hand, (sending shivers up and down my spine) and showed me every note.
“See?” He asked. I played the notes back to him, and looked at him, expecting some sort of feedback.
“Sorry, play them again?”
Was I that bad? I did, and he smiled in what I thought was approval, because we then moved on to simple scales and then chords. I wasn’t that good at the piano. Perhaps the ukulele was for me.