Unwritten Chords Novels & Stories

Adrian exhales sharply. “Okay. That’s bad. That’s really bad.” I don’t argue. Because it is. The Unwritten are unpredictable, but at least they’re new. At least they’re still learning basic structure, still figuring out existence itself. This— This is something that already understands more than it should. Something that doesn’t need to learn from scratch. Something that can adapt faster than I can react. I push the connection outward. Carefully. Not fully extending—just enough to trace the disturbance.

His bandaged hand was hovering over the strings, trembling with a violence that made my own heart ache. I didn't speak. I didn't want to break the spell. This was the reality Lila claimed I couldn't understand. Kai took a breath, his shoulders hunching, and tried to form a C-major chord. I watched the tendons in his forearm cord and twist. He pressed down, his knuckles turning white, and plucked the strings. The sound was muted, a dull thud instead of a ring. He swore under his breath, a dark, guttural sound, and tried again. Thud. Thud.

The first shockwave crashes into my lower lips and clit, making me gasp as I feel my nipples harden when the waves travel up my entire body. “That’s a C chord, Bunny. Did you like that one?” he asks, flicking his hair away from his face. I nod, gnawing on my lower lip. “What other chords are there?” “Oh, Bunny, I thought you’d never ask.” We keep our eyes locked on each other as he takes me through the next string of chords. My ears can’t tell the difference, but my pussy now knows she loves A minor and C major. “Oh, fuck! Daddy! D minor, please!” I yell as Asher increases his playing speed, the vibrations never ending, my pussy is pulsing with need.

She bites her lip, pulls her hair from the bun, and turns to the mirror in her locker. I ignore them and open up my locker, my reflection staring back at me. I pull my hair out of the bun, and my dark hair cascades down my back and bounces around my shoulders. My narrow eyes pull into a scrunch when I hear the sound of ladies giggling to themselves happily like they are going to win the jackpot tonight.

Music became the language through which I could convey my deepest joys and sorrows. So I will be playing the melody of Dandelions by Ruth B. My fingers trembled with anticipation as I pressed the first key, producing a sound that seemed foreign and discordant. It was clear that my touch was not enough to produce the harmonious melodies I had envisioned. Undeterred, I continued to press each key, determined to improve the synchronicity of the notes and create a beautiful composition.

Bookshelves along one wall, old spines, a few framed things I cannot read from the doorway. And on the stand above the keys, sheet music. Handwritten. I cross the room without deciding to. The floor is hardwood and my socks make no sound. I stop at the piano and look at the pages without touching them. The notation is careful but not formal. Someone who understands music but writes it the way they speak.. with emphasis in unexpected places, a few corrections scratched out and rewritten. The ink at the edges of the pages has faded slightly, the particular fading of paper that is old rather than neglected.

I paused by the kettle, eyes down as I poured hot water over the tea bag. Olivia laughed at something, and Eva joined in immediately. It wasn’t forced. It was the kind of laugh that came easily—the kind you only shared with someone you actually liked, like...me and Claire. I stirred the tea slower than necessary, pretending not to notice. I hadn’t realized they were that close. By the time I stepped outside for lunch, the feeling still hadn’t gone away. They’re all part of the same circle. Eva, Olivia, Daniel. It was like they all understood something I didn’t—like there was this invisible thread connecting them.

The next moment, he chuckled mischievously and said teasingly, "Mr. Hart could have recovered today, but too bad that little child's skills are not up to par. It's a pity!" The others were confused. The first 12 needles were correct. Why did Chad say that the last one was wrong? "Ah, ah," With the placement of the final needle, Rustin exhaled deeply. He looked much more spirited. "I knew it! You're the best, Benjamin! Unlike someone who just talks!" Olivia did not know medicine, but seeing Rustin looking much better after the treatment, she cheered happily. Chad still said, "The Submediant Tetrachord works, but it needs to be seven millimeters deep."

The tour had ended and Emily retired back to her room. Glancing at the clock, it was twelve in the afternoon—two hours before Drew was to return. She might as well put the free time to use. Normally, Emily would stay up all night finishing up an article. However, owing to the unplanned move and the exhaustion that came with it—she didn't have time to work. Emily booted up her laptop and navigated the arrow to an article in her drafts. Once it was opened, Emily cracked her knuckles—ready to type, but her fingers hesitated.

And just like I thought, I look up and lock eyes with Professor Matteo’s angry ones. I quickly averted my gaze. Is he still not over it? Thanks to the weekend, it happened three days ago, for fuck sake, how come the effect is still fresh? Right behind me is Rook the bully. I don’t even want to think about him, not with everything going on, so I pretend he’s not there, even when I know he’s staring at me just as bad as Professor Matteo is. “Chords are fundamental in music, being groups of three or more notes played together to create harmony and emotion…”