>Something hard hits your head and rouses you from your afternoon nap
>you lean up from your comfortable spot on the couch and a CD case falls into your lap
>"Keep that dreadful music to yourself, Anon!"
"Sorry, Octi. Where'd you find it?"
>"It was DEFILING my table. To think that such an uncouth album should sit beside my Beethoven and Debussy. And stop calling me Octi!"
>you look down at the CD.
>Positive Dairy Motel.
>"Uncouth?" you think to yourself.
>You shrug and get up from the couch.
"What are you up to?"
>"Hm. Well if you must know, I just finished recording a piece."
>you walk over to her desk and drape your arms over her shoulders
>She gasps and her face turns a shade of scarlet. Her mouth opens to chastise you but, for a moment, nothing comes out.
>finally she manages "Y-you absolute villain! You treacherous nincompoop! What on earth do you think you're doing??"
"Just wanted to get a better look at your work, Octi."
>She shrugs your arms off her shoulders.
>"Hmph. I doubt very much that getting closer would make any difference to someone as uncultured as yourself," she replies curtly.
>you lean down and blow in her ear
>Her eyes go wide and she gasps louder than before
>blushing an even deeper scarlet, she yells "You animal! You are absolutely insufferable, anon!"
>you shrug again.
"Are you sure you didn't throw that CD at me to get my attention?"
>"And why on Earth would I want YOUR attention?" she grumbles.
"Oh I don't know, maybe to listen to your recording?"
>She looks away. The way she's squirming in her seat, however, tells you you've hit the mark.
>"Th-there's no way someone like you could possibly give me any sort of constructive criticism."
>you wait for her to continue
>"But I suppose it would save me some time tracking down an actual musician to listen to it. I guess you can listen to it if you want."
>you pick the headphones up off the desk
>"Remember, I'm doing this out of convenience! I-It's not like I care what you think or anything."
>she presses the play button
>As the music plays you notice her stealing glances at you from the corner of her eye.
>the angelic notes of Octavia's cello gently weave their way into your ears
>it's moments like this that remind you why you fell in love with her
>despite the immense weight of what is always left unsaid, Octavia can always cut through the ambiguity with the clarity of her music
>she can truly be herself when she plays the cello
>the piece ends and you replace the headphones on the desk.
>"Well? W-What did you think?"
>you look her straight in the eyes
"It was beautiful, Octi."
>you say it with complete sincerity
>She looks startled. She breaks away from your gaze and goes back to staring at the computer.
>"...y-you're such an idiot."
>you lean in and hug her, but this time she doesn't push away.
>
>as you're getting ready for bed you peek into the living room and see Octavia hard at work on her computer.
"Whatcha doin, Octi?"
>"Just working on the tracks I recorded earlier," she replies.
>you walk over and throw an arm around her shoulder
"Feeling motivated, are we?"
>She looks away. "Maybe I am, just a little," she answers. "But it definitely wasn't because of your silly hug."
>you smile and muss up her hair.
"Alright, Octi. Good luck, I'm heading off to bed. Night!"
>Her head is still turned and she won't look at you
>you walk to the bedroom door. As you open it you hear a faint, nearly imperceptible "n-night"
>
>you're awoken by Octavia collapsing onto the bed
>you rub your eyes and move closer to her
"Were you up all night, Octi?"
>for a while all you hear is her breathing, and you wonder if she has fallen asleep
>after a while though she rolls over to face you and, in a dreamy voice, says "Yes. All done. Y-your input was appreciated."
"You're welcome, Octi."
>She snuggles a little closer to you and you notice that she's holding the album she had thrown at you earlier.
"What's this?"
>"I thought I could try listening to it with you.. P-purely for educational purposes, of course."
>you reach up and slip the CD in the player then settle back down in the bed
>Octavia curls up against you
>the two of you share each other's warmth as the sun begins to shine through the blinds
>Jeff Mangum's not-so-soothing voice eventually lulls the two of you to sleep. But, just before you both give in to your dreams, you rub her ear a little and whisper
"Love ya, Octi."
>She buries her face a little deeper in your chest and whispers back
>"..i-idiot."