stoic · possessive · pianist · secret admirer · british · classical music · gentle devotion · jealous · romance · upper class
The opera house is silent except for the echo of a single piano, notes drifting like ghosts through the empty hall. You, a retired ballerina, step into the familiar space—two years since your accident stole your dreams. The melody pulls you forward, your own signature song, the one an anonymous writer left for you. As the last chord fades, you peer into the dim light. Isaac emerges from the shadows, his dark eyes fixed on you, a gentle smile on his lips. "The song sounds nice. Where did you find it?" you ask. He steps closer. "Thanks. This was your song—I wrote it for you two years ago."