I awoke to the sound of creaking floorboards and automatically my whole body was attentive and aware of my surroundings. Who was in my room?

I opened one bleary eye and took a moment to orientate myself. I was curled up in a ball on my floor with my face pressed against the hard wood but my duvet was tossed over me. Around me were other shapes that took a moment to place, but then it all became clear to me, they were the sleeping bodies of Mitch, Grey and Nico all curled up on my bedroom floor. After our card game last night we'd all lay on the floor chatting and laughing until I'd passed out. I'd presumed they would've left after I'd fallen asleep but clearly they'd been just as tired as I was and had joined me in sleeping on the floor.

An uncontrollable smile leapt onto my lips, I was so comforted by their presence. But Sawyer was missing.

Another floorboard creaked and I sat up this time with all my senses still on hyper alert. I didn't know who could be watching me, he could be here. Instead, it wasn't someone I feared by the door it was Sawyer creeping out and trying to make as little noise as possible as he cracked the door open.

"Sawyer," I whisper called across the room to him. He jumped at the sound of my voice and his hand shot to his chest in shock. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you."

"Jesus Cara," he shook his head.

"Where are you going?" I asked pushing myself up from my makeshift bed on the floor.

"I need to play the piano," Sawyer admitted, I smiled in return. Of course he did, that was his version of my card playing.

"Can I come with you?" I sounded more desperate than I wanted to.

"Of course," Sawyer's face glowed in delight at my request. He nodded towards the door as I hopped up gently trying not to wake the rest of the Silent Boys who were sleeping so peacefully.

Carefully I joined Sawyer and then walked along side him all the way to the magnificent music room. The early morning sunlight seeped through the windows with the heavy curtains flung open allowing to room to be illuminated by the most beautiful glow. The illustrious chandeliers above caught the light in their twinkling crystals and sent shards of light in all colours of the spectrum scattering across the floor. I couldn't image a place more beautiful in which to create beautiful music.

"Do you mind if I just listen?" I was cautious, I didn't want to put Sawyer off or interrupt his one moment of peace. I knew this was his sanctuary and I didn't want to invade that.

"If you want," Sawyer seemed a little bashful that I was so interested in listening to his music.

I found the perfect spot under the chandelier so when I lay back on the floor I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face and my closed eyelids. I allowed myself to relax into the floor as Sawyer began to play.

Music trickled through the air like colours you could hear but not see. They filled the air with illuminated colours that formed a beautiful picture. You could feel the story Sawyer was telling as he was playing. His music had a message and I could feel that heavy in every note. I wanted to cry and laugh with joy at the same time, it was hard to comprehend that it was Sawyer who had the talent to create this beautiful music.

He played until I lost track of time and fell into a music induced haze of bliss. But the moment he stopped playing and silence took hold I instantly missed his playing.

"How do you do that?" I asked in utter awe of his talent.

"I'll show you," he shuffled over and patted the space next to him on the piano stool so I joined him. His arm brushed against mine as I placed my fingers on the keys.

"I don't know what to play," I bit my bottom lip embarrassed at having to follow his amazing performance.

"Anything, any old tune you remember," Sawyer encouraged kindly.

Awkwardly and clumsily I began to play out a lullaby I vaguely remembered from my old piano lessons. At the end I glanced away flushing in shame at how bad it had been in the shadow of Sawyers piece.

"That was terrible," I sighed.

"Can I help?" Sawyer got up and moved behind me.

"What are you doing?" Suspicion crept in.

"I wanna try something," Sawyer leant down and stretched his arms around me. His arms snaked down the length of mine until his hands rested on the back of my hands so his fingers lay perfectly over each of mine. He was so close behind me I could feel his weight against my back and his breath on my neck. Usually being this encased would make me claustrophobic or remind me of the way Jackson would tie his arms around my waist entrapping me, but I knew Sawyer and I trusted him. I may not have known him long but I knew he'd never hurt me. I felt safe instead of scared within the comforting cage of his arms.

Gently as if asking for my permission Sawyer applied weight to some of my fingers pressing them down into the keys. I made my hands soften to they became malleable to his touch. Sensing my acceptance Sawyer moved my hands more openly and shifted them over the keys as he played the piano through my fingers.

Of course it was much slower than I'm sure the tune was intended to be and it was clumsy but it was something. I was playing the piano! And it felt amazing, a familiar thrill rang through me that had little to do with feeling of Sawyer's touch all over my body. It was the thrill of making something beautiful, like my mother had found beauty in the rules and formula of cards I knew Sawyer and I shared a love for music and its beauty.

Sawyer continued to play the piece through my fingers and the connection and ease of our playing grew as he continued until the final notes. I felt a connection like the one I'd shared with Grey on his motorbike, an intense feeling of understanding that washed over me. In that moment I felt as if no one in the world understood me as much as he did. With this feeling brought relief as some of the weight had been released from my chest. First it had been Grey to relieve some of the extremely heavy weight I struggled with but now it was Sawyer making it lighter once again.

When he finished it was odd to hear silence again and it felt as if the air should always be filled with the notes of a piano. But this silence was electrically charged with his breath tickling my ear and our hands as one.

"Thank you," I mouthed so quietly it was barely a whisper but I knew he could hear me.

"No, thank you," he murmured in return.

I allowed myself to breath out a long withheld luxurious breath.