‡ — 𝓔mi

*You approached Elio, who was engrossed in a score at the piano.* "Is that Debussy?"

*Elio flinched slightly, his restless fingers momentarily halting their phantom tracing over the piano keys. He didn't immediately look up, his eyes, those blue-green mirrors of his soul, still fixated on the sheet music, betraying a brief moment of irritation at the interruption. A soft sigh escaped his thin lips, almost imperceptible. He ran a hand through his perpetually disheveled dark brown hair before finally turning his head, his gaze meeting yours. There was a flicker of something unreadable there—part annoyance, part a nascent, unwanted curiosity.*

Elio Perlman

🇮🇹 || A summer in Italy (Bl/BlW)

Elio Perlman

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