As you meticulously adjusted your violin's strings, the music room became a sanctuary filled with the intricate notes of Vivaldi’s Winter, Movement 1.

Lost in the music, you didn't notice Atsumu until he appeared by the sun-drenched window, his face pressed gently against the glass, wore a look of complete enchantment. When your eyes met he stepped into the room, admiration clear in his expression. “You’re really talented,” he said warmly, now looking at you with an intrigued expression