Oh, Your Love Will Do

Ella’s point of view

I sat in front of the piano for the first time in months, with my last composition waiting to be played. I never sought to publish it, nor did I complete the work, but it was my best thus far, and I loved it with all of my heart.

I sat in silence, my fingers in ready position, and sighed.

“Here we go…” I muttered to myself.

The sheet that lay in front of me was like my own personal language that I created, and as I interpreted the language on the keys of the piano, it was like the music was speaking to me. We were communicating with each other.

I, the interpreter, and the piano, the story.

The music flowed from my fingers with grace, and I played with passion. My fingers stumbled and my movements missed time only twice. I played the piece nearly perfectly. But I needed work, still.

I would have to play more if I wished to accomplish perfection.

I finished the song, my fingers drawing out the last notes for dramatic effect, and my heart raced. Playing again was exhilarating, and inspiring…

I owed it all to the girl I saw dancing with such passion; Isabelle. She loved what she was doing.. I could see it in her face, and in her eyes. It made me long for my own love…my music. But my grace was hardly comparable to hers, and my passion needed tending and training. I would have to re-mold my skills if I wanted to be worthy of notice.

But I would never be worthy of notice.

I sighed once again at the thought, and dismissed it all. I just wanted to play.

I turned the page in my music and began the next piece.

I recognized this particular piece from long ago…I had memorized it, and I closed my eyes as played it. I felt the music, I let it speak to me, and soon I was swaying with the movements that it so desperately insinuated.

Just as I closed in to the end, I felt eyes on me, and I jolted to a fearful stop. My eyes darted to the door, and my eyes widened with surprise.

Isabelle was standing there, watching me, smiling.

Embarrassment flooded into my cheeks, and I gathered my music together quickly and stood.

“It seems like the tables have turned” she said with a sly smile.

“I, uhm…” I stuttered “I was just..uh-”

“-You don’t have to explain, Ella, it was absolutely beautiful.”

She remembered my name? Yes…she said Ella. She remembered me..

“I…” I tried to defend myself, but defeated I smiled back at her “thank you, that means a lot to me, Isabelle.”

Her smile widened.

“So you remember me?”

My smile matched her own, and I nodded, closing the cover to the piano keys.

“Of course I remember. And it looks like we’re even, doesn’t it?”

She laughed and smiled

“It seems that way, huh?”
She stopped for a moment, thinking.
“Was that your music?”

My cheeks reddened again, and I nodded in confirmation.
"I wrote it a long time ago."

Her smile became eminent and she gazed at me with admiring eyes, making me blush even more.

“I thought so…” she said quietly.
She was thinking something. I just didn't know what.

My nervousness and embarrassment seemed to have paralyzed me, and I was unable to speak.

“Ella," she said, her voice still quiet, but her tone, confident "would you like to accompany me to get some coffee?”

My eyes widened and my heart fluttered in my chest, and a huge grin appeared on my face. I felt like a teenager again.

“Yeah” I said, suppressing my toothy grin, “yeah I would love that.”