Music Between Us
1023 Words
"Sometimes the first thing we fall in love with isn't a person. It's the way they make us feel."
Amy
I had exactly forty-three minutes before class.
Forty-three minutes to finish my coffee.
Forty-three minutes to review my notes.
Forty-three minutes to convince myself Differential Structural Systems wasn't actively trying to destroy my GPA.
Instead...
I was staring at my phone.
I hadn't heard from Nocturne since last night.
Not that I expected to.
Actually...
Maybe I had.
That realization made me immediately lock my phone.
"No."
I whispered to myself.
"We are absolutely not becoming that girl."
"What girl?"
Mia slid into the chair across from me at Willow & Bean carrying a blueberry muffin and absolutely no respect for personal space.
"The girl who checks her phone every thirty seconds."
"I don't."
She looked down at my phone.
Then back at me.
"You literally locked it because I sat down."
"I was finished looking at it."
"Liar."
I laughed.
"You enjoy this way too much."
"I really do."
She broke off another piece of her muffin.
"So..."
"So?"
"The mysterious stranger."
"There is no mysterious stranger."
"The online guy."
"Oh."
Her grin widened.
"There he is."
"I never said there was a 'he.'"
"You didn't have to."
I sighed dramatically.
"I hate how well you know me."
"I know."
She looked entirely too pleased with herself.
"So tell me."
"There isn't much to tell."
"We've just been talking."
"'Just talking' is how every relationship starts."
"It isn't a relationship."
"It also isn't not one."
I opened my laptop.
"I'm studying."
"You changed the subject."
"I absolutely did."
She laughed.
"You like him."
"I don't know him."
"You like talking to him."
I opened my mouth.
Closed it again.
Because...
She wasn't wrong.
"I like our conversations."
She smiled softly.
"I know."
For some reason...
That answer scared me a little more than the teasing would have.
---
Lucas
Friday.
Most people loved Fridays because the workweek was over.
I'd started loving Friday nights for an entirely different reason.
They had become predictable.
Music.
Coffee.
Silence.
And lately...
Her.
The realization stopped me halfway across my apartment.
I hadn't planned that.
I hadn't even noticed it happening.
Somewhere along the way, Amy had quietly become part of a routine I'd once guarded fiercely.
I wandered toward the shelves lining my living room.
Vinyl after vinyl.
Miles Davis.
Bill Evans.
Stevie Wonder.
John Mayer.
Music had always asked nothing of me.
It didn't care what title sat on my office door.
It didn't care whether I won awards or made mistakes.
It simply stayed.
Constant.
Reliable.
Honest.
My phone vibrated.
Amy.
The smile arrived before I could stop it.
Amy: Happy Friday.
Three words.
Why did they make the apartment feel less empty?
I leaned against the shelf.
Typed.
Deleted it.
Started again.
Nocturne: Happy Friday.
Almost instantly—
Amy: What are you listening to tonight?
I looked toward the record already spinning.
Then smiled.
An idea crossed my mind.
One I'd never tried before.
Instead of answering...
I copied the song link.
Sent it.
Nothing else.
Nearly a minute passed.
Then—
Amy: That's not an answer.
I laughed quietly.
Nocturne: It is.
A laughing emoji appeared.
Then another message.
Amy: So... music is how you answer questions?
I looked around the apartment.
Maybe it was.
Maybe it always had been.
Nocturne: Sometimes music explains me better than words.
That might've been the most honest thing I'd told anyone all week.
---
Amy
The song loaded.
Mrs. Harper placed my latte beside me without interrupting.
She simply smiled before walking away.
I slipped in my earbuds.
Pressed play.
The Sweetest Love.
I didn't recognize it.
Within the first few notes...
I understood why he'd sent it.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't trying to impress anyone.
It simply invited me to listen.
Outside, people hurried past the café windows.
Inside...
Everything slowed.
The music wrapped around me so gently that, for a few minutes, I forgot about homework.
Forgot about graduation.
Forgot about the pressure I'd been carrying for months.
When the song ended...
I didn't reach for another one.
I simply sat there.
Letting the silence finish what the music had started.
Then I picked up my phone.
Me: That didn't feel like a song.
The typing bubble appeared.
Nocturne: No?
Me: It felt like a conversation.
The dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally—
Nocturne: That's why I sent it.
Something settled quietly inside me.
He understood exactly what I'd meant.
Without asking me to explain.
That didn't happen very often.
---
Lucas
I read her message three times.
It felt like a conversation.
No one had ever described music that way.
Not once.
I walked over to the record player and gently lifted the needle.
The room fell silent.
Strange.
It didn't feel empty anymore.
I found myself wondering what she'd looked like while she listened.
Had she closed her eyes?
Smiled?
Sat perfectly still the way people do when something reaches a place words can't?
I caught myself.
Careful.
This was how boundaries disappeared.
One conversation became another.
Another became routine.
Routine became anticipation.
And anticipation...
Eventually became attachment.
I'd promised myself years ago that I wouldn't let strangers matter.
Lately...
That promise didn't feel as certain as it once had.
---
Amy
That night, sleep refused to come.
Not because of homework.
Not because of graduation.
Not because of work.
Because a man I'd never met had somehow managed to tell me something...
Without saying very much at all.
I opened my music app.
Created a new playlist.
The cursor blinked.
Waiting.
I hesitated.
Then typed a single word.
Nocturne.
I added The Sweetest Love.
Just one song.
One conversation.
One stranger.
I looked at the playlist.
It held only a single song.
Yet somehow...
It didn't feel empty.
It felt like the beginning of something.
I smiled to myself.
"This is probably a terrible idea."
Maybe it was.
Maybe it wasn't.
But as I set my phone on the nightstand, one thought slipped quietly into my mind.
I couldn't wait to hear what he'd send me next.
- Writer
