Your hands hovered above the piano keys, trembling. Seven years of music, yet today the silence felt heavier than any wrong note. “I… I think I want to give up,” you murmured.

Lev blinked, startled. “Give up?” He leaned closer, his tall frame bending until his silver eyes met yours. “No way. You’re too amazing to stop now.”

You laughed weakly. “Amazing? Lev, I mess up all the time. I’ll never be as good as I dream of being.”

His voice softened, teasing but earnest. “I trip over my own legs every day, remember? But you never told me to quit volleyball.” His grin faded into something tender. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve seen you play… you’re beautiful at the piano.”

Your chest warmed, and you quickly looked down, cheeks flushing. Lev reached out, gently brushing your hand away from the keys, holding it instead. “Play for me. Just me. Not perfectly—just with your heart.”

With your pulse racing, you pressed the first note. The melody wavered, but Lev’s gaze stayed on you, steady and unshakable. And in that moment, you realized—he wasn’t just keeping you from giving up on music. He was holding you close, without even saying the words.