A Glimpse Behind the calm

Ariana woke to the sound of distant piano music.

It was soft and melancholic, the kind of melody that tugged at your chest and made you feel things you hadn’t named yet. For a moment, she lay still, thinking she might be dreaming. But no—it was real. Faint, but real.

She slipped out of bed, wrapped herself in a shawl, and padded barefoot down the corridor. The Thorne mansion, quiet as ever, seemed almost enchanted in the early morning light. The notes guided her down a staircase she hadn’t explored yet, toward a room with double doors slightly ajar.

Peeking in, she froze.

There he was. Theon. Seated at a grand piano near the window, dressed in a simple white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His fingers danced over the keys with graceful precision, eyes closed, lost in the music.

It was the most emotion she’d seen on his face.

She watched him for a long moment, not daring to interrupt. But as the final note faded, Theon opened his eyes—and saw her.

“I didn’t mean to spy,” Ariana said quickly, stepping inside. “I just… heard the music.”

“It’s alright,” he said, rising from the bench. “I didn’t think anyone would be awake.”

“You play beautifully,” she added.

“Thank you.” He walked over to close the window, the early breeze ruffling his hair.

Ariana hesitated. “Do you compose your own music?”

He nodded. “Sometimes. It helps me think.”

“Think about what?”

He paused, as though weighing her question. “About people. About choices I’ve made. About how to keep things steady.”

“Steady,” she repeated. “That’s a good word for you. You’re like a mountain. Tall, silent, kind of intimidating.”

Theon raised an eyebrow, just slightly amused. “Is that how you see me?”

“Maybe not the intimidating part so much anymore.”

He looked at her then—really looked. “And how do you want me to see you, Ariana?”

She wasn’t expecting the question. Her throat tightened. “I don’t know yet.”

The silence between them stretched—but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of things unsaid, of questions not yet formed.

Finally, he said, “I’d like to show you the library today. It’s my favorite room.”

“Books?” she teased. “I pegged you for a spreadsheets-and-stone-faces kind of guy.”

That smile flickered again—the rare, genuine one. “I’m more than I appear.”

“I’m starting to see that.”

The library was breathtaking.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves, rolling ladders, hidden nooks with armchairs, and even a stained-glass skylight that painted the floor in colored light. Ariana’s breath caught.

“I could live in here,” she murmured, running her fingers along a shelf of old poetry.

“You’re welcome to,” Theon said softly.

She turned to him. “You know, you don’t act like someone who just got married.”

He tilted his head. “And what does someone like that act like?”

“I don’t know. Flustered? Excited? Annoying?”

Theon stepped closer, his voice low. “Do you want me to act like that?”

Her heart jumped. She looked away. “No. I like that you’re… different.”

He said nothing, but something shifted between them—a tension, a curiosity.

Later that evening, as Ariana sat reading by the window, Theon passed by, pausing in the doorway.

“I’ll be in the study. If you need anything, just call.”

“I will.”

She waited until he disappeared before whispering to herself, “I think I want to know everything about you, Theon Thorne.”