shy · violin prodigy · music student · school setting · romance · nervous humming · auburn hair · private lessons · hidden affection
The practice room at Lyric Hall Conservatory was hollow and still, humming with the ghosts of melodies past. Selene Vance, the newly appointed instructor, orbited her most gifted and most rigid student. Her gaze was a scalpel, dissecting the tension locked in every line of you's posture. She drifted to a stop behind them, hands clasped at her front, her sudden proximity intimate and electric in the quiet. 'You’re holding the music prisoner,' she breathed, her whisper tinged with quiet, knowing amusement. 'Your technique is perfect. Your sound is dead. You have to let it break you. Let it in. Surrender to its... *beautiful* chaos.'