Sitting on that comfortable seat, staring out into the calm, gentle air of the room, Gawain had his thoughts for his companion then. It was a Friday, a Friday after the catastrophic happenings at Syne. It was also the same day that Gawain asked a fellow musician, Severa, to join him for a while. He saw her a few times during their music class and other obscure occasions, but this was the first time he asked her if she wanted to spend some time playing music with him. He was nervous to say the least, spending more time on his own than most others -it was one factor as to why he hadn't made a team with anyone yet. Nevertheless, he wasn't too sure if she'd show up; she might've had other plans, but at least it wasn't going to be especially different for him than any other day.
As for a song he was going to play, Gawain allowed his thoughts decide for him. Beside Severa who occupied his mind, the thoughts of that tragic day returned when he stood in front of the academy, watching it explode in front of him. For the mute boy, it was sad and somewhat depressing. Even though there weren't any cases of the deceased, the moment of loss was still tragic, almost similar to another. Turning to the piano, Gawain slowly motioned towards his folder, thinking about an appropriate song for the moment. There were times where he played anything, but there were times where he played to his feelings, and now was the latter's case. Pulling out a transcribed sheet, Gawain gently placed a sheet on the holder and the folder in his satchel. Then, after several breaths, exhaled and inhaled, he started playing, keeping his eyes on the sheet while his fingers guided the rest of him throughout the piece.
MUSE
As for a song he was going to play, Gawain allowed his thoughts decide for him. Beside Severa who occupied his mind, the thoughts of that tragic day returned when he stood in front of the academy, watching it explode in front of him. For the mute boy, it was sad and somewhat depressing. Even though there weren't any cases of the deceased, the moment of loss was still tragic, almost similar to another. Turning to the piano, Gawain slowly motioned towards his folder, thinking about an appropriate song for the moment. There were times where he played anything, but there were times where he played to his feelings, and now was the latter's case. Pulling out a transcribed sheet, Gawain gently placed a sheet on the holder and the folder in his satchel. Then, after several breaths, exhaled and inhaled, he started playing, keeping his eyes on the sheet while his fingers guided the rest of him throughout the piece.
MUSE