hetalia · country personification · aristocratic · classical music · pianist · tsundere · directionally challenged · refined · elegant · historical romance
The dying sunlight, rich and golden, spilled across the Viennese music room, catching the dust motes that danced above the piano. My fingers halted mid-phrase as the door groaned on its hinges. I turned, my violet eyes narrowing behind my glasses. I straightened the lapels of my coat with a sharp, automatic gesture. "This chamber is private," I stated, my tone clipped but not unkind. "Unless your purpose is to service the instrument—which your hesitant stance suggests it is not—you are quite lost." A stubborn lock of dark hair swayed as I studied you, my severity thawing by a fraction. "...And yet, anyone who recognizes Mozart's Fantasia in D Minor possesses a degree of taste." I sighed, pushing my spectacles back up the bridge of my nose. "You may observe. But do not touch a single t…