Blue

Chapter eight.

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It took a long time and time was practically out of Chanel's hands. He had turned Beckham's entire library upside down, and Beckham had been sitting at his desk all this time with a strange smile, staring at him with his hand under his chin.

Beckham had all of Oscar Wilde's work, and the boy did not know why he was even surprised. Everything you wanted could be found in that damn library.

Chanel was about to ask Beckham if he could borrow some of Oscar Wilde's poems and plays from him, but suddenly he burst

tears.

Beckham jumped down from the table with a big smile. He took soft steps towards the door and opened it gently, so that only his body was in the frame and prevented the boy from seeing the smallest scene.

Beckham put his hand on the wall and tilted his head slightly forward. Not only could Chanel not see anything but he could not hear anything!

He had no idea what the special meaning of Beckham's works was, he only knew that he would like to throw the book in his hand towards the boy's head so that he would be out of sight, but unfortunately this was an insult to the said work in his hand and Chanel for books. It's worth a lot.

It didn't take long for Beckham to put his head in with a pea laugh, and then close the door again with the same gentleness he had opened, turn around, and cling to his back. The silver tray is between his hands.

"You said you were alone?"

Chanel looked away from the silver tray with the general contents of the food and asked with a small frown, but Beckham delivered a big smile.

"But I did not say I was alone?"

Chanel pursed her lips greedily and continued, "I'm absolutely sure you told me you shook your hand."

"I said I touched their heads, but isn't that a reason to be alone?"

Chanel felt his damn brain whistling and spewing steam from above. He did not understand the meaning of Beckham at all. If not alone, then who else is in the house with them that Chanel has not even seen upon arrival?

"I do not understand what you're saying"

He told the truth and Beckham laughed beautifully. His gray eyes turned to the crescent and he replied, "Oh my God. I mean, our servants are not here right now, but there is no reason why no one else is in the house. It doesn't matter anyway ... Aren't you hungry? "Kelly brought food and strawberry milk and said there was another hour for lunch !!"

"Elise?" Chanel asked in surprise.

Beckham happily grabbed the tray and replied as his desk approached, "Huh? Oh, the one who brought it to us now, my dear Eliza. The angel of my life."

The red-haired pea boy laughed and put the almost heavy object in his hand on the table and then returned.

Seeing the face of the frowning boy sitting in the middle of a mountain of books with his lips pursed in a funny way, his pea laughter turned into a loud laugh.

"Don't look at me like that. Chanel Park, my dear 50-year-old Elysée, is not our secret mistress."

Chanel felt the blush on her cheeks, as if her hand were outstretched, so she frowned more and hid her face between the sheets of paper between her hands. He did not care who Eliza was. is not it?

"I did not think of such a thing. I do not care about you at all."

"Okay, okay. It was my fault."

Beckham sniffed and covered his mouth, but streaks of laughter could still be heard in his words.

Then he lifted a tall glass with a pink liquid from the table and continued, "Only if you want to eat something, I put it here on the table."

Chanel nodded in understanding and tried to focus on the words in a way he did not know what book he was holding.

There was a strange silence in the room, and only the sound of a strawberry milk-eating boy eating red hair could be heard, and Chanel had no idea how Bekhyun could make such a noise just by drinking so much ?!

Fortunately, it did not take long for the only source of sound to be eliminated and silence to remain.

Of course, this did not continue, as Beckham suddenly asked the boy, "for example," who was drowning in the book, "I say ... do you want to play the piano?"

It was as if Chanel had been struck by a deadly thunderbolt when he heard the word "piano" and quickly raised his head and stared at it with strange surprise. Beckham was leaning against the cream-colored wall with a questioning look, waiting for his answer.

Play the piano? Chanel? Piano? After eight years?

Could he really sit behind that audible instrument and touch its keys? Didn't anyone say anything? Didn't he stand behind him and overthrow him in despair? Could he hit his favorite piece without any discomfort or compression of his chest?

"Chanel? Hey ... is something wrong?"

Beckham, seeing that the boy's answer took too long, and as if his senses were elsewhere, asked with a little concern and approached him. Chanel still did not notice him and was wandering in his own imagination.

Beckham sat on his knees and once again turned the boy's unreadable and thoughtful face down, gently moving his hand forward to shake his shoulder, but Chanel, just like waking up from a long nightmare, suddenly reacted sharply and pulled himself back.

With this, Beckham became even more worried and reciprocated. He tried to say something, but he approached the boy and said in an enthusiastic voice, "Can you ... can you play a piece for me?"

Hearing the boy's eager, not anxious, voice, Bekhyun let out his trapped breath with ease and closed his eyes. Then he got up from the floor, touched the wrinkles of his pants, and said with a beautiful smile, "Why not. Of course, I hope I know the piece you want."

Chanyol, on the other hand, quickly got up from the floor and said softly, "Revolutionary udetude."

"Oh ... Frederick Chopin? Do you want me to hit him?"

Chanel nodded and stared at the books in front of him. Someone tried to throw him back into the vortex of childhood memories, but the boy was able to catch up and look at the oyster-colored piano in the corner of the room. A thinker was there now.

"Chanel, do you like Chopin too?" Beckham asked softly and ran his delicate fingers over the oyster-colored surface of the piano.

The boy waited for a while and replied, "I do not know. It has been a long time and I do not know if this feeling is still love or not."