"When music on two staves is joined by a brace, or is intended to be played at once by a single performer Grand Staff is created."

Pianissimo coming from the term that means "very softly"

It is during those close, quiet moments that he can most hear the music. It's not always the same song, not always one he has heard before. Practiced fingers come alive against the warmth of her back. The movements begin languidly, the pads of his fingers pressing down lightly, barely keeping up with the symphony in his head. Forte. The volume increases. He looks down at her through eyes half-shut. The side of her face is against his chest, radiating heat and comfort. Staccato. His fingers barely touch down not, bouncing deftly off of ivory skin. Allegro. Faster now. He is becoming lost. In the music, in her. He is startled by green eyes staring into his own. He stops.

"Did I wake you?"

She shakes her head slowly, barely moving at all.

"Keep going," she mumbles into him.

He feels slightly guilty. He watches as she awkwardly gropes behind herself. Her slender hand finds his and grasps it lightly. Play. It is not a questions, and it doesn't take him long to once again find the notes. Andante. He slows, taking on a more leisurely pace. Fortissimo. Increased pressure accompanies the new tempo as his fingers travel along her spine and across her shoulder blades.

He begins to hum along despite himself. He's not sure if it's a piece he's played before or one that's never existed. An appreciative sounds comes from her, and he feels the small, sweet smile against him. Coda. He can no longer keep up, and her now steady breathing is only pulling him closer to sleep. The previously busy fingers come to a rest with no protest this time. And with her comfortable weight and warmth against him, he finally surrenders. Fine.