This isn’t a prompt. This simply is something short and sweet that came to me while I was daydreaming pathetically today. I own this one-shot, but not the characters. I really hope you dig it. 

His eyes were more distinct than ever as her fingers glided fastidiously over ebony and ivory rows. They were far bluer than the cloud cluttered sky outside, and shone even clearer than the surface of the parlor grand that was reflecting Spencer’s fierce concentration. 

The piano didn’t belong to either of them, but it had presented itself as a welcomed distraction from Nicholas Pennythistle’s - Veronica’s boyfriend of two weeks - arrogance-soaked soliloquies. After being invited - no, more like forced - to attend a getting-to-know-you dinner at the Pennythistle manor, poor Spencer had barely set foot in the door and was bulldozed with a lecture. Even though it was Spencer’s first time meeting Nicholas, who had an atrocious last name and toupee, the man seemed to know all about her. Or so he assumed. 

It was half-past her being fed up with Nicholas comparing her to his seemingly flaw free daughter, Amelia, when Spencer had grown as hot as her tea. She felt like she was on a non-stop flight to Doomsville. Luckily, she had brought along her very own parachute. Toby had gently placed his hand on her back and excused them, telling Nicholas he admired the layout of the manor and wanted to explore a bit. This had tickled Nicholas pink and ultimately presented Spencer and Toby with an opportunity to take a break. 

Here they were now, their fingers dancing on the well-polished keys to a sonorous piece they both knew by memory. Their intensities varied, yet complimented the other adequately, producing a hypnotic energy. 

Their duet and peevishness simmered to a conclusion, Spencer’s eyes jolting to take a gander at the panting young man next to her. He wore the same fun-charged grin and was able to match her giggles of triumph.

"Didn’t know you could keep up." 

Toby’s cheeks dived into a new hue. “You should know by now, I’m full of surprises.”

"Just like you’re full of charm?"

Toby’s eyes began to pounce in response, that bashful smile Spencer seemed to fish out with ease making a cameo. “Why’d you stop playing piano? You’re a natural musician.”

Memories of panic-attack inducing rehearsals, her parents nagging her to outshine her classmates, and forgotten recitals began to play tag with Spencer’s head; making a pit stop to bully her heart. 

Her fingers slowly drift from the instrument, her eyes downcast. 

A single shrug lifted her slumped shoulders. 

"When your parents abdicate their support and flake out on recitals, it’s easy to begin abandoning motivation. They weren’t present, and neither was I. After awhile, the music just becomes noise."

The sound of Veronica and Nicholas laughing in the room over extracted a cringe from Spencer - their cackling like nails on a chalkboard. Peter had moved out of the house and out of her radar, Melissa was in hiding and here her mother was, playing Brady Bunch with a man who was as square and featureless appearance wise as he was in personality and his two pretentious teens.  

Her desperation to drown out all the ruckus was transparent to Toby; just not anyone else. 

"Hey…" Toby starts, his fingers slipping between hers. "Play me your favorite song?"

His bid to lead away her mind from the chaos is accepted. She smiles at him, only with her lips this time, positions her trembling digits. 

The moment she begins, Toby is in awe. She plays effortlessly, beautifully, without any mistakes. Her fingers are light as they gloss the keys, but he can see in her chocolate eyes how heavy her heart it. Lyrics emerge, the rasp that encourages them belly-flipping. 

Spencer’s seductive narrative over the layered tune is just as complex as it is serene. She pours everything she’s been keeping cooped up inside out like a fountain. 

And Toby doesn’t throw in pennies to wish her a better future than the burdensome present she’s enslaved by. He keeps his wishes for her to himself, at least for now. 

He’s still transfixed on her when she finishes, which only makes her blush. 

Clapping seems too cliched, so he dodges it. Instead, he kisses every finger tip, concluding his inner applause with a soul-splitting kiss to her lips. 

She’s smiling ear to ear when they part; her cheeks indented with dimples as she pokes his firm chest playfully.

"Rather than an encore, how about you play me your favorite song now?"

Toby’s head shakes from side to side. “I can’t, Spencer.”

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