A/N Only been awake for like… six hours and bored as all bloody hell. You'll see some interweavage of my stories here. I'm just like Madame Defarge… Except not. And I don't agree with Emma. I think Axe smells unfairly good when put on in proper amounts
"Here we are!" sing-songed Mrs.Gunn, gesturing to a plain brown door to the side of the staircase. Emma nodded and smiled in thanks, as any words would have been lost in the din of the Gunn's house. Fidelio's mother returned the smile and began to descend the stairs, raising a hand halfway down and singing "Knock loud!"
In thanks for the many 'tutor sessions', Fidelio had agreed to teach Emma an instrument of her choice. To her it was a silly idea; art was her forte and that was that. But Fidelio insisted, citing Charlie as his best pupil.
"Boy didn't know a thing about music when I first I met him," Fidelio had said, scribbling his cell number on the corner of one of Emma's sketchbooks, "Look at him now!" There was obviously no fighting with the boy, so Emma just agreed to stay out of trouble all week and meet at his house on Saturday.
The Gunn house was unlike any house she had ever been inside. Of course, she had been there before, but there had certainly been more important things going on then. She and her aunt lived on the top floor of the bookshop, so it was small, but incredibly tidy and quiet in that public library sort of way. Here it was loud and cluttered, but the sound was constant and musical, almost like a noise band was living within the walls of the house. It was not like random bursts of thunder at Tancred's or the yelling siblings at Gabriel's, it was in fact, all together pleasant actually.
Emma had arrived a little early, and Fidelio had apparently still been sleeping, so she sat in the kitchen with Mrs.Gunn as Fidelio's siblings filtered in for breakfast. It had been quite entertaining for an only child, even if the easy banter and affection between the large family had made her feel just the tiniest bit lonely. But, they were all friendly and funny in the same way Fidelio was and they all remembered her name from her previous visits.
"Hey there, Em!" Fidelio's youngest sisters chorused on their way downstairs. Each was holding an instrument case and waved at her as they went down the stairs, sharing a wink between them.
"Er..hey," Emma said softly as they passed. When they had disappeared down the stairs, she raised a loose fist to knock on the door. Tap, tap, tap.
Nothing.
Tap, tap, tap.Nothing again.
"This is new," Emma sighed sarcastically. She pressed her ear to the door and yelled, "Fidelio Gunn, I'm coming in, deal with it." Despite her statement, Emma opened the door a crack, and receiving no objection, continued to push the door open hesitantly until it was open all the way.
"Oh! Sorry!" Emma yelped as she opened the door on a half-shirtless Fidelio. She blushed deeply as he shrugged and tugged his shirt down.
"S'cool," he said groggily, rubbing his eyes. His regular swagger and obliviousness calmed her down.
"For real? You haven't even woken up yet?" The tutor part of her swelled up as she tried to force down a smile, leaving her with what she was sure was a very unattractive sort of smirk.
"Purty," Fidelio laughed, smooshing her face together as he breezed by, " Let's got get you an instrument."
He led Emma up two more flights of stairs, passing numerous wood doors just like his, all in various states of openness and volume of sound coming from it. One door was covered in sports posters and the loud sounds of a televised footy game wafted under the door.
"That's Ted," Fidelio explained as the passed by, gesturing with his thumb, "Black sheep." From another, the sound of guitars and trumpets floated into the hallway. "My brothers are trying to start up a ska band." Fidelio laughed, "I think that's pretty cute."
They continued up until finally they stopped in an airy hallway. "Grab that chord would'ya?" Fidelio asked as he retrieved a flashlight from a nearby closet. Emma frowned and thrust one hand into the air, grabbing at a worn, once white piece of twine hanging from the ceiling. Without her regular heeled school shoes, Emma was considerably shorter, and she had left her sneakers in the front hall as per Mrs.Gunn's request. Seeing her struggle comically for the string, Fidelio reached up and pulled it down with ease for Emma.
"You could have just kept pulling," she scoffed, accepting the string.
"Yeah, but that would have made you feel bad," Fidelio offered with a wide, toothy smile. "You might want to step back." Emma shuffled back a few feet before yanking down the chord. There was a small click as a ladder came down (A/N Like the one in 'Hey! Arnold'), and Fidelio gestured for Emma to go up. "Ladies first." She once again tried to bury the smile on her face, and again, resulted in a very funny face.
"Don't." Emma said, swatting away the musician's hand before he could prod her face again. He shrugged and smiled and went up the stairs first.
"Where exactly- ACHOO- are we," Emma sneezed when they got to the top of the stairs. It was very dusty, and a lone panel of sunlight filtered in through a window near the steeple of the roof.
"Bloody-Ah! Here we go," Fidelio muttered as he groped for the light switch. "Yeah, sorry. We don't usually come up here much." A chain of light bulbs began to hum along the ceiling, casting light on the contents of the attic. Emma could see an assortment of music stands, broken down bits and pieces of pianos, and all shapes and sizes of big black music cases.
"So," Fidelio said, casting his arm around the room like a king over his domain, "You've got your pick, then." Emma wandered slowly around the room, unsure what to pick up.
"I was thinking about you last night, Em."
"Er…Wha-?"
"No, no! I meant, like what instrument you'd be good at!" Emma reddened as he pointed towards a particular path in the cluttered attic. He walked short ways before stopping abruptly, causing Emma to crash straight into his shoulder blade.
"Sorry!" A waft of that clean boy smell hit her nose.
"You are right clumsy Miss Tolly," Fidelio smirked, knitting his eyebrows like he was confused. "Anyway here it is! Ta-da!" He pointed to a black case that was set directly in the warm shaft of light coming from the lone window.
"Uhh… That looks just like all the other cases here."
"Well…yeah," Fidelio laughed, sort of taken aback by how true it was. He picked up the case by a small metal handle and gestured for them to go back down stairs. "You'll see. You'll like it, I swear."
"Now will you tell me?" Emma sighed as she and Fidelio reentered his room. He smiled again and shut the door, effectively blocking out all the sound in the hallway.
"Just push all that stuff off the bed." He nodded his head towards a heap of clothes and blankets that was raised slightly above the rest of the heap of clothes and blankets. Emma followed his instructions, and indeed there was a bed under all the mess. She took a seat on it, folding one leg under her, but there was something digging into her back. Reaching a hand behind her, Emma withdrew a small black spray can.
"Truly, Gunn? Axe?"
"Knew it was somewhere." His smile widened as he set the case on the bed across from Emma and took the can from her. "Mind if I…"
Emma shrugged. "I think its overrated on a guy, but if you want." Fidelio put the can down on his dresser.
"I trust your opinion." Fidelio took a seat next to Emma and pulled the case onto his lap, and then slid it to floor. He snapped open the four metal clasps on the case and slowly withdrew the instrument.
"A guitar?"
"Fast hands, strong fingers, love of all things Jenny Lewis. Why not?" He picked a few notes and twiddled with the tuning before handing it over to her.
Emma received the guitar like a mother accepting her newborn from the nurses. She ran her hands along the neck and tested the strings. "S'Beautiful, Fidelio. But, er…. I don't know how to play."
"Well…" Fidelio produced a newer looking guitar and readjusted the little knobs at the top and strummed a little. "Go like this."
He proceeded to teach her a few of the most basic of chords and strumming patterns, and also the worst motivational lines known to man. But, regardless, it was still nice to sit in the sunlit room with him and have him teach her something new. Emma was, again, quite surprised by the pleasantness it all.
"No, no, no" Fidelio sighed, doing his best Mr. Saltweather impression. He leaned over and one by one, rearranged all her fingers in to the right formation. " And it sounds better if you press hard." He pressed down lightly on each of her fingertips. The sun filtered into the dirty room, and its heat mixed with that now familiar clean boy smell was making Emma all the more woozy. Finally, she rested her head in the curve of the guitar and sighed. Fidelio smiled and continued to strum aimlessly, before picking up a particular tune.
"There are worse ways for a guy to spend his time…."
"Fido…"
"…I think I'd marry you…"
"Fidelio."
"…just your smile, keeps me satisfied but you're not…"
"Fidelio Gunn!"
"Ja."
"What time is it?" Fidelio flipped over his wrist to stare at his watch.
"Oh…I don't have a watch." Emma shook her head as the boy retrieved his cell phone. He flipped it open and scratched at his head. "Almost one."
"Bloody-!" Emma gasped, suddenly shaken from her languidness by the news. Fidelio simply shrugged and clicked a few buttons on his phone.
"Chill," he chortled holding up the phone, snapping a picture of Emma's surprised face. He regarded the photo for a moment. "Real purty, Tolly."
Emma shook her head and began putting the guitar back in the case. "Ouch!" she yelped and looked at her fingertips. The pads of her fingers on her left hand, save for her thumb, were raw and red, and some even skin peeling off.
"Yeah… Calluses," Fidelio said, taking Emma's hand by the palm and inspecting the fingertips. He gave one of them a tentative poke, resulting in a sharp breath on Emma's part. "They'll eventually be your best friends. Just look at mine!" He let go of Emma's hand and offered his up for inspection. They did indeed look like a war zone.
"You need a manicure," Emma said, snapping shut the case, "I have to go make butter now. Do you want me to take this back up?"
"Nah," Fidelio yawned stretching out on his bed as Emma rose to leave, "You can keep it if you want. We've got like a billion anyway and that ones too small."
"Are you sure, I mean I could-"
"Again, chill. Think of it as an early birthday present."
"You have no idea when my birthday is."
"None."
"It was a month ago."
"Well it's a very early birthday present."
"Bye Fidelio."
"G'bye an' g'night."
Emma shut the door firmly behind her and started her way down the stairs. The volume in the house had gone down considerably since she had last been in the hallway and it seemed that most of the Gunn's had had the same nap oriented thought as Fidelio. On the way down, Emma once again encountered Fidelio's little sisters.
"How was the lesson," one asked cheerfully, gesturing to guitar case Emma was holding.
"It was good," Emma said, "Fidelio lent me this one to use."
"Ahh," the other one said, after inspecting the outside of the case, "He gave her THAT one."
"Ooh, THAT one!" The first sister pointed to a small sticker towards the bottom of the case. It was relatively small, and had a picture of a smiling Donny Osmond. "Its his first guitar. Put that sticker on when he still wanted to be Joseph in that musical with the coat."
"Never thought Fifi'd part with that one too quick… Well, g'luck with it Emma." With this, both girls disappeared up the stairs.
After waving goodbye to Mrs.Gunn, Emma slipped on her shoes and was halfway down the road when Fidelio came bounding behind to her. When he reached her, he doubled over and began taking deep breaths.
"You walk fast for someone with such short legs," he gasped between great puffs of air, "I was reprimanded by my little sisters for being 'uncouth'."
"Really now."
"I don't even know what uncouth bloody means!" Fidelio straightened himself up and took the guitar case from Emma. " So now, I get to walk you home."
"I'm really-"
"Nuh, if I don't, I won't be allowed to get a good afternoon's sleep." Emma frowned and placed her hand on a poofy patch of hair on Fidelio's head. It had, in truth, been bothering her all day.
"There." She drew her hand away and pinched Fidelio's cheek like an old granny.
"You're an odd one Tolly."
A/N I'm sorry about the ending. But I've been working on this story all day (from like 4 til' 10), its five pages long and I think I smell pudding. Trying to make this sorta classy, not like "ZOMG! I can't believe I just thought that! GLAHHH!" Did you know smoosh is not a real word? My entire universe has just been upended because Word Spellcheck does not accept the word smoosh? What shall become of us! And for the record, I am Ted. A jock amongst artists. Jenny Lewis is an amazing singer/actress/role model. If you don't know who she is, cry first, then download/purchase every Rilo Kiley album and her new album with the Watson Twins. And kudos to the choice few who can name the song Fidelio's singing.