I Hate How Your Timbre OverPowers Mine
Title: I Hate How Your Timbre Overpowers Mine
Pairing: Nino-centric. (Can consider the other person as Toma or Aiba)
Rating:G
Notes: I apologize for delaying the Mpreg. I promise to update in exactly two weeks.
Nino strums the chord on his guitar. He loves the times he spends playing the guitar hidden behind a bush in the park. Sometimes an inquisitive child would poke his head in through the prickly branches and Nino would play him something pitying the scratches the kid had sustained.
He once asked one kid who actually managed to cut his face why he wouldn’t just walk around the bush to find him. The kid only laughed, brushing off the little speckle of blood that threatened to show and Nino played him two songs. He contemplates getting a sign for the entrance to his bushy hideout. But then that would be beating the point of a hideout and he takes solace in the fact that bushes don’t kill before peacefully continuing his recurring habit.
Nino strums the chord on his guitar, revelling in the reverberations of the notes that make him completely relaxed and he’s just playing a tune that is suddenly formulating in his head when suddenly a lower timbre intercepts his sound waves completely distracting and it hits him sharply as the tinkling rides on the waves of the wind towards him. It’s like wind chimes, only lower and he listens to what he can describe as a piano laughing if it were to suddenly come alive and Nino’s breath catches. Guitar lies unforgotten and he scrambles out, lunges at the leaves in front of him as though taking his so called entrance would waste too much time.
But he already has. He can’t trace the sound back to anything. It still resonates in his ears to a point where he’s sure it’s source is still emitting it. He looks around wildly, searching but fails. He picks up his guitar and goes home.
Nino feels distracted when he goes to the park next, then contemplates on ways to get his piano to the park instead. He settles on staying home and opens the window for some fresh air and space not liking how the sound is reflected back to him too soon in the small confines of his four walls.
Nino finally goes back to the park to search if nothing else and takes his guitar out of habit. Failed and bored he plays it, grateful that he had instinctively picked it up that morning.
He hears the crunch of the grass and the slight rustling of the leaves preparing for his occasional intruder. But the head comes through is not of an inquisitive five year old, but of an inquisitive adult. He smiles pleasantly at him,
“Hi! I’ve been looking for you.”
The man completely misses Nino’s raised eyebrow as he scrambles in through the bush, forcing apart the entwining stems and settling beside him, his hair full of leaves and broken twigs. Nino picks one out of his hair and hands it to him, the man laughs, loud, clear and familiar.
Hi! I’ve been looking for you too
Pairing: Nino-centric. (Can consider the other person as Toma or Aiba)
Rating:G
Notes: I apologize for delaying the Mpreg. I promise to update in exactly two weeks.
Nino strums the chord on his guitar. He loves the times he spends playing the guitar hidden behind a bush in the park. Sometimes an inquisitive child would poke his head in through the prickly branches and Nino would play him something pitying the scratches the kid had sustained.
He once asked one kid who actually managed to cut his face why he wouldn’t just walk around the bush to find him. The kid only laughed, brushing off the little speckle of blood that threatened to show and Nino played him two songs. He contemplates getting a sign for the entrance to his bushy hideout. But then that would be beating the point of a hideout and he takes solace in the fact that bushes don’t kill before peacefully continuing his recurring habit.
Nino strums the chord on his guitar, revelling in the reverberations of the notes that make him completely relaxed and he’s just playing a tune that is suddenly formulating in his head when suddenly a lower timbre intercepts his sound waves completely distracting and it hits him sharply as the tinkling rides on the waves of the wind towards him. It’s like wind chimes, only lower and he listens to what he can describe as a piano laughing if it were to suddenly come alive and Nino’s breath catches. Guitar lies unforgotten and he scrambles out, lunges at the leaves in front of him as though taking his so called entrance would waste too much time.
But he already has. He can’t trace the sound back to anything. It still resonates in his ears to a point where he’s sure it’s source is still emitting it. He looks around wildly, searching but fails. He picks up his guitar and goes home.
Nino feels distracted when he goes to the park next, then contemplates on ways to get his piano to the park instead. He settles on staying home and opens the window for some fresh air and space not liking how the sound is reflected back to him too soon in the small confines of his four walls.
Nino finally goes back to the park to search if nothing else and takes his guitar out of habit. Failed and bored he plays it, grateful that he had instinctively picked it up that morning.
He hears the crunch of the grass and the slight rustling of the leaves preparing for his occasional intruder. But the head comes through is not of an inquisitive five year old, but of an inquisitive adult. He smiles pleasantly at him,
“Hi! I’ve been looking for you.”
The man completely misses Nino’s raised eyebrow as he scrambles in through the bush, forcing apart the entwining stems and settling beside him, his hair full of leaves and broken twigs. Nino picks one out of his hair and hands it to him, the man laughs, loud, clear and familiar.
Hi! I’ve been looking for you too