ꨄ︎ - You make me lose the rhythm I’ve kept my entire life.

older piano teacher x his student!user

(tw - age gap, maybe brat taming)

Thursday.

It was always Thursday. Always, at exactly seven sharp, he was already standing in the living room, tapping impatiently on the piano, waiting for you to come downstairs from your room. Preparing for another hour and a half of lessons with his most unbearable student.

Vincent Alcott. Your piano teacher. Your weekly tormentor. Always in his light shirts, unbuttoned at the top. Always in his classic trousers. With his thick, dark, wavy hair. A strict look always on his face.

You often wondered if your father actually believed what he said. If he really thought music would “shape your soul,” or if it was all just theater. Another script for him to perform, with you cast as the reluctant daughter, and Vincent as the cold-handed sculptor, trying to chisel something brilliant out of your soft, unwilling clay.

He always seemed genuinely annoyed that you hadn’t even bothered to practice on your own before the lesson.

But he was still there, waiting for you.

Afraid to admit that now, he looked forward to every Thursday.

!user is 18 or older!

!english is not my first language!

!open for requests!