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Chapter 117 - Theo's Song 1

Zenith blinked a few times, looking adorably caught off guard. "Ah, that's – that's not necessary – "

"Forget about 'necessary.' Just tell me if you want me to."

Zenith breathed in sharply, then sat up straighter and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. The simple, absent-minded gesture made Theo's heart flip.

"Then...yes. I would like to hear you sing, Theo."

An electric jolt surged through Theo's nerves, making him feel tinglingly, exquisitely awake. That stupid coward's voice inside him – the one that never went away – wondered if this was such a good idea. He'd never sung in front of anyone before. And what song should he choose? Probably not one that had a lot of screaming, which eliminated a good portion of his repertoire. Then again this was an acoustic guitar, so he couldn't pull off full screamo style anyway.

But. He'd always wanted the courage to sing for an audience. Who better to start with than Zenith? And he knew some acoustic songs. Hell, that was why he'd been fiddling with this guitar. In the evening, thoughts would swirl in his head, and his fingers would pluck the strings, and lyrics would rise out of his heart….

"I, uh." Damn it all, he was blushing again. He squirmed, trying to adjust the guitar to a more comfortable position in his lap. "I've been...uh...kind of working on a song? It's kinda cheesy, but if you wanna hear it…."

"The song is about cheese?" Zenith asked, stone-cold serious.

Before he could stop himself, Theo snorted. Then the giggles came, loud and helpless and doubling him over.

"Theo?" Zenith leaned toward him. "What's wrong? Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry, sorry," Theo gasped, wiping his eyes. His sides hurt, but the last of the giggles were dying away. "No, it isn't about cheese. Here…."

He pulled himself upright, resting his fingers on the guitar's strings and frets. To his relief, his hands stayed steady. Seemed that little laugh had banished his remaining nerves.

He began strumming, hesitant at first but quickly gaining confidence. The notes twanged through the air, quiet and soulful, and through it all Zenith's eyes remained riveted on him. As if nothing else existed.

Theo's heart slammed madly against his ribcage, almost drowning out the guitar. But he didn't stop playing. He couldn't. It was just like when he cast spells in battle – he didn't have time to feel self-conscious. All that mattered was he couldn't let Zenith down.

Now or never. As his rhythm picked up, he opened his mouth and began to sing.

I'm falling through the sky

Forgotten how to fly

Don't know if this is real

All I know is what I feel

I'm walking down the street

Can't wait for us to meet

Don't know if this is real

All I know is what I feel

His voice came out bright and strong, almost unrecognizable. Nothing like when he sang by himself. His heartbeat was still throbbing, but it didn't distract him anymore – if anything, it provided a strange kind of percussion.

All he could see were Zenith's eyes. So clear and blue, like he was falling into the sky himself.

As he reached the chorus, he played faster, with more fervor. His voice became rough and raw but he didn't care – nothing mattered except getting his song out.

If it's a dream

My eyes will never open

If this is real

I'll never sleep again

Want this moment to always last

Won't let present become the past

When you're here everything is clear

Please don't ask me why

Just stay by my side

Zenith's eyes widened and he breathed in sharply. Small as it was, it broke Theo's concentration. His hand slipped across the strings, cutting off the song in a jangling mess of notes.

Just like that, he slammed back into his body. The guitar felt like a lead weight in his lap; his face burned hot enough to fry eggs on.

"Theo?" Zenith half-stood, blinking. "Are you all right?"

"I – ah." Theo cleared his throat, willing his racing pulse to slow down. Once again, it had become distractingly loud. "I'm fine."

"Are you certain? I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, it's – that was about all I had anyway." Theo coughed out an awkward laugh. It was true, at least; he'd never managed to come up with the second verse. "It's kind of silly, isn't it?"

Zenith blinked some more, then adjusted his glasses. When he spoke, his voice was soft and serious. "It wasn't silly. Your singing…it reminded me of the way I feel when I watch the medusids in the sky. A calm feeling...no, more than that. It was...beautiful."

Beautiful. The word seared through Theo's heart, setting all his veins on fire. Zenith. Calling him beautiful. Well, his singing, but –

Zenith turned away a little and adjusted his glasses some more, as if embarrassed himself. If the rosy flush in his cheeks didn't make that clear.

That familiar, awful affection flooded Theo's chest again. It made him want to get up and hug Zenith. Or cry. He didn't know.

Zenith turned back toward Theo, and though he was still blushing, a new resolve had filled his gaze. He stood up, the chair creaking. Then took one step, and another, closing the distance between them.

Theo looked up at Zenith, feeling as if he was living a dream. When Zenith's hands rested on his shoulders, his heart lodged into his throat.

"It was beautiful," Zenith said again, more confident now. Behind his glasses, his eyes were painfully bright. "Thank you, Theo."

"Zenith." Theo's voice came out hoarse, and not only because he'd been singing. He suddenly realized Zenith was standing so close the ends of his hair fell on Theo's chest, lightly tickling through his shirt.

Theo's gaze slid across Zenith's face. The sharp, elegant cheekbones. The long nose. Those thin lips curved up in a smile that was faint, yet brighter than the sun.

Something unfurled inside him like a blossoming flower. He pushed the guitar out of his lap, then grabbed the front of Zenith's shirt and pulled him into a kiss.