Pairing: Key x Taemin
Warnings: unbearable cuteness? boys love, fluff, ooc, alternate universe
Summary: Taemin is mute, he plays the piano istead of talking. Key understands this and the pair fall in love.
(A/N: I wrote this for school... XD )
He smiled at me. He really smiled at me. I really didn’t think anyone else was listening. I was playing my heart out on the piano in the music room and suddenly I see him outside the window a soccer ball in his hands smiling at me. I know he was smiling at me because when I first looked up, his friend was talking to him and he turned to look back but then he looked at me again and smiled. His eyes are a warm brown and he seems a devilish Romeo with his dark brown hair cut to hang in the front with long bangs. He is sporty, he sings, and has loads of friends.
But his friends are not the popular kind that are attached to their cellphones at birth. They are the nice kind of people who laugh at jokes that aren’t mean and like what they like and are who they are without hiding anything. I wish I could talk to them. But you see, I’m mute. I have a machine that talk’s out loud in robotic voice for me. But it’s not my voice. My piano is the one that really speaks for me.
Talking to anyone is a bit hard. I hear just fine and I can read and write, I just can’t talk. I used to be able to speak but one day when I was about 10 years old I got sick. Now I can’t speak a word to anyone. It’s hard but I manage. I know I should be in a special school but I refuse to be treated as a freak. So I struggle and with a machine’s help I manage. The machine says everything I write down on it out loud.
But talking to people is slow and not at all easy. Instead I come here to my sanctuary in the music room and play my piano. I say everything I can’t with my piano. I create entire conversations with every key I touch. Every emotion I feel every thought comes through the piano. My name is Taemin Lockheart. I’m a 15 year old boy. I’m mute. I play often at recitals.
I spend most of my time in between classes playing the piano creating new songs. That boy I was talking about earlier, his name is Key. Yeah you heard me; his name is K-e-y, Key Seyoung. Cool right? I think I like him. He talks to me sometimes even though I’m shy. He seems like a good person. I don’t really know him but isn’t it always like that at first? I like him is my point I guess.
Maybe I should try and say hi? Well I guess I’ll find out. Music class was last period so I got a break from people always talking. But Key wasn’t there. He isn’t in English to read his Shakespeare; he wasn’t in Math to ask for some notes. So I go home from school feeling down that I couldn’t see him today and I decide to go across the park on a whim.
Of all the luck in the world he is there sitting on a bench his eyes closed but sitting straight so probably not asleep. I did what any normal person would do, I coughed lightly and looked at him to see if he was okay. His brown eyes blink open and reveal that something is off. They were red and he seemed depressed.
So I did what I thought would make him feel better. I took his hand and dragged him to the part of the park where there was big hill and did like I used to when I was little. When it seemed like the world was so big and like it was spinning around me. To prove to myself that it wasn’t , I used to roll down the hill. He let me lead him there without saying anything. But when I lay down on the ground and crossed my arms he looked at me like I was crazy. He asked “ What on earth are you doing?”
Instead of answering, I simply smiled and rolled down the hill showing him my makeshift roller coaster. My body shook with laughter, just like those silent films. When I reached the bottom of the hill I looked back up at him and waved for him to follow me down.
He raised his eyebrows but chuckled as if he didn’t quite believe he was doing this and did the same laughing his head off all and yelling all the while. When he reached the bottom he sprawled on the ground still laughing at how much fun it actually was. I smirked at him knowing that he wasn’t so sad anymore.
He looked away and I could swear he was admitting that I was right. I went back up the hill and he followed. I grab my bag which I’d put down and pulled out my machine and wrote down on it “See? The world is not actually spinning around you. Things will find a way.” The machine said this out loud in the most mechanical and unfeeling slow voice possible. I rolled my eyes at it. So electronic.
He looked at me and asked “How did you know I wasn’t feeling well?” I wrote again on my machine “You had a look that said ‘make it all stop moving so fast.’ You pride yourself on being strong, I get that but something is wrong and maybe no one else could see it, but I can. The world isn’t spinning. You are here with me. So smile.” He looked at me like he couldn’t believe me.
That I would see that much about him. Now I roll my eyes at him. He laughed again. He pulls out his iPod and hands me and earphone. I sit down in the grass besides him and put it in. I hear piano start to play and I realise, it’s ME playing. He recorded me! I look at him with huge eyes. “How? When? Why?” I ask using my machine again. He smiled widely, a bit embarrassed. “Your voice.
It’s so beautiful- I wish I could hear you play all the time. And from the first time I heard you play I wanted to hear you play again. So a while back I decided to sit under the window and use my iPod to record your playing. The piano is your voice.” He explained in a rush. I blinked at him and wrote “ Thanks, I guess.” I blinked at again, uncertain of what to say.
“You were right when you said that I looked sad before. I wasn’t at school today because I was at the doctors this morning.” I looked at him alarmed. Could he be sick?!
“I’m not sick… I’m going blind. I can’t write the notes in math because I’m in the back of the class. I really can’t see, so I always ask you for the notes and try and listen as well as I can. My vision started to get bad a few months ago. I went to the doctors today finally to get my eyes looked at to see if I needed glasses, but no.
I’m getting worse and I will eventually go blind.” He told me his voice getting more and more quiet and choked with emotions as he spoke. I understood his pain. Learning that you will lose one of your senses is like going up the stairs in the dark and thinking that there was one more step than there actually was. That sickening moment when your foot fall through the air and the fear of falling when you trip a bit to steady yourself.
I plucked up the courage and hugged him. I really couldn’t ‘say’ anything to make it better. But I could be there for him. He hugged me back and I could feel he was crying. I pulled back and wiped his tears away with my sleeve.
"I’ve told you something about me now tell me about you Lock.” He said giving me a nickname.
“I wasn’t always mute. I used to be a singer. But I can’t anymore. So instead I play.” I wrote. He chuckled through his tears and said “I sing. I love to sing. Maybe when I can’t see any more that is what I will do.” He frowned, sadness touching his features.
“When I go blind, I won’t be able to see your face ever again.” He choked on a sob.
I picked up his hand and pressed it to my face. I made his hands trace my features. He understood I wanted him to memorize it. He traced all over my face. My cheeks, my eye lids, my mouth, my jaw line. Somehow he understood. Even though I couldn’t speak he knew I liked him. He bent and kissed me lightly. I looked down and felt the heat on my cheeks. In the next few weeks he and I went out together. I learned a lot more about him as we fell in love.
As he went blind, I became his eyes and he my mouth. When I wanted to say something he often said it first. Together we thrived. He often said to me, “I’m the Key to your lock, Taemin Lockheart.” He would touch my cheek and feel the warmth there and could tell I was blushing. Our lives were never easy, but with the other’s help and support we lived our lives happily and in the end became famous musicians. He sang and I played piano. Life was good.
(A/N: Remember, comment pretty please)