Adrien was bent over the desk as he furiously wrote, scratched out, and rewrote down the notes and original arrangement to a few songs he knew by heart. After he had five pieces written down, he looked at them before slowly arranging them into a different scale, one to fit a violin.
Mikyle laid on the bed, his head propped up on his hand as he watched Adrien work in a flurry of concentration.
Adrien tapped the pen against his lips as he looked down at what he had. Ink smeared against his hand, turning the underside of it a different color. Now all he had to do was to try playing them aloud. But first. . .
Adrien stretched out his stiff fingers. They ached and complained.
A soft chuckles sounded from behind him before the shadow fell over him. "You've worked hard. Take a break." Mikyle then took Adrien's hand, and his long, thick, calloused fingers began massaging Adrien's hand and fingers.
