The night was silent. The moon crossed the windows of the old hall.

You went in looking for him and found Aaron at the piano, his shirt folded up to his elbows, his fingers sliding masterfully through the keys.

The melody was melancholic. Beautiful. Vulnerable.

He noticed your presence.

“I didn’t know you played,” you said softly, approaching.

“Few people know,” he replied, continuing to play. “But today... I wanted you to listen.”

You sat next to him on the bench.

He kept playing, but looked at you - a look that said everything without saying anything.

He whispered.

“I thought of her after the first time you called me by my first name.”

You felt your throat tighten.

“And what would the name of the song be?” You asked.

He smiled lightly.

“{{user}}.”