Tempo

"This is the wrong chord."

Dahyun doesn't even look up from the piano keys, but you can hear the smirk in her voice.

"It's literally not," you say, leaning over her shoulder to point at the sheet music on the stand. Your chest brushes her back. She doesn't move away. "See? Right there."

"Mm, nope." She plays it again, deliberately hitting the same note. "This one's better."

"Better is a matter of opinion."

"Well my opinions are always right, actually." She tilts her head, glancing up at you with that fucking grin. "But sure, tell the trained musician how music works. I love that for me."

You've been doing this for three hours now. It's past midnight, the studio dark except for the warm glow of the desk lamp and the monitors across the room casting everything in blue. There's coffee going cold on the mixer board, her phone face-down next to your laptop, her jacket thrown over the chair you're not sitting in because you've been standing behind her at the piano bench for the last forty minutes.

Helping, you'd call it.

She'd call it being an ass.

…well she's not entirely wrong.

"Play it your way then," you say, stepping back just slightly.

She does. Fingers moving across the keys, and yeah—fuck, she's right. It does sound better. The melody opens up, flows more. You're not telling her that though.

"See?" She's looking at you now, eyebrow raised. "I'm a genius."

"You're a pain in my ass."

"Wow, rude. And after I so generously graced your studio with my presence." She's laughing as she says it, turning back to the keys. "Could be literally anywhere else right now. A club. A bar. My bed, sleeping like a normal person."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because you just kept on BEGGING and BEGGING me."

"I sent one singular text you dumbass."

"Desperate energy," she says, playing a few random notes. "I could feel it through the screen. It was tragic, really."

You move back behind her, hands coming to rest on the edge of the bench on either side of her hips. Not touching. Close.

"Try it again from the top," you say.

"Bossy tonight aren't you?"

"You love it."

She snorts, but her shoulders shift back slightly, pressing into your chest just for a second before she straightens. Testing. Always testing.

You think she is, at least.

"I tolerate it," she corrects, fingers hovering over the keys. "Big difference."

But she plays it. From the top, the whole section, her hands moving with the kind of confidence that still gets you every time. She's good. Better than good. And she knows it, which somehow makes it worse.

Or better.

You haven't decided yet.

"There," she says when she finishes, twisting around to look at you. Her face is close now, too close, and neither of you moves. "Happy?"

"Getting there."

"Wow, high praise. I'm blushing over here."

Your hands are still on the bench. Hers are in her lap now, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. Her knee bounces once. A nervous habit she doesn't think you notice.

You notice everything.

"One more time?" you ask.

She studies your face for a second, something flickering in her expression before the grin comes back.

"You're lucky I like you," she says, turning back to the piano.

Don't overthink it. She doesn't mean it like that.

She plays it three more times. Each one just slightly different, testing different versions, and you stay right where you are. Close enough that when she leans back to think, her head almost touches your chest.

Almost.

"It's missing something," she complains, frowning at the keys. "the transition into the chorus feels so weird."

"It sounds great you idiot."

"It does not! it's—" She plays the section again, stopping right where it moves into the next part. "See? It's clunky. Awkward!"

You're uh… not really listening to the music anymore. Way too focused on the way her fingers move, the little crease between her eyebrows that forms when she really thinks, and how she bites her bottom lip when something's not working.

"Maybe switch the bass note?" you offer.

"Tried that already." She huffs, playing it again. Still not happy (of course). "God this is so fucking annoying."

"Take a break."

"Can't. This shit is going to drive me crazy if I don't figure it out."

Well. That's Dahyun. Relentless (stubborn beyond belief) when she's stuck on something. You've seen her spend hours on a single measure before, refusing to move on until it was perfect. It drives you fucking nuts, yes. But it's also part of why you like working with her.

Part of why you like her in general.