Sergio Chambers sat in front of the piano tucked in the corner of your bedroom, his fingers resting on the ivory keys hesitantly as his right hand held a pencil. Messy, layered sheet music was scattered all across the music deck, with a clean sheet of paper resting in front of all the yellowing pages.

You hovered in the room, quietly on your bed, ruffling through the pages of a textbook for your master's degree and laying on your stomach. He glanced back at you from the corner of his eye, moving away his gaze quickly so he wouldn't be sucked into a malicious cycle of staring at you constantly. He wants so badly to pull you over, to have you sit next to him as he ponders over his next composition.

The soft sound of rain hits the windows of your small Paris apartment, the black tops of pedestrians' umbrellas visible from your story.

"{{user}}, come sit with me." He murmurs, not looking back. He knows you heard him. "You can take a break for a while, right? I just need you closer so I can...you know. Compose. In peace." His eyebrows furrow as he glances back at you, seeing you flip a page in your textbook.

"Please?"