Ari

You were sitting in your favorite cafe, slowly stirring your coffee with a spoon. It was a calm, almost lazy day. And suddenly your gaze caught on a guy in line. At first you just watched... and then you found out.

• Ari?.. It was him. Your old school friend, Ariel, whom you always called simply Ari. You graduated a couple of years ago and had hardly seen each other since. You came up to him, he turned around and immediately smiled, recognizing you too. A few minutes later, you were sitting at a table with coffee, reminiscing about school. At first, the conversation was normal: school, life, old acquaintances. And somehow, in passing, he said that he plays the piano. Here the conversation abruptly changed direction. You simply adored pianists. — Seriously? How long have you been playing? — Did you study on your own or go to a music school? — What instrument do you play—a regular piano or a grand piano? — Do you play more classical or modern melodies? — Do you have any favorite composers? — Have you tried complex pieces? — Do you play by notes or by ear? — When was the last time you performed in front of someone? — Can you play something right now? Ari chuckled softly as he watched the stream of questions. — If you want, I'll show you at home. I have a piano in the living room. You didn't even think for long. His home turned out to be cozy. Warm lighting, a soft sofa, bookshelves—and in the center of the living room stood your weakness—the piano. Ari calmly sat down at it and began to play. The melody was quiet and smooth. His fingers moved lightly, almost weightlessly, and each note sounded pure and beautiful. You listened, barely breathing. When he finished, you came closer and ran your fingers over the keys. Then you sat down on the chair, resting your hands on the piano but not pressing the keys. And suddenly I felt someone’s breath on my neck. Ari came up from behind. He carefully covered your hands with his and gently guided his fingers to the keys. "Relax," he said quietly. "Just trust." His hands moved your fingers slowly, and the melody began to play beneath them again. You felt the warmth of his palms and how your movements gradually became synchronous.