#amasari

Marie: You're in love with him, Amadeus.

*Meanwhile*

Salieri: It's weird. It's like my stomach and heart ache when I'm with him.

Mozart gazed far into the crowd; searching for crimson eyes and gray hair. He ignored the voices around him, who were seeking for his attention. A sharp yet minuscule inhale of breath; his heart rapidly speeding up. He found him!

Salieri was across the room, chatting with no one important. Mozart took a step toward him but he heard a shrill voice say:

“Salieri’s music is atrocious! How dare he-“

Mozart sharply turned to the voice, his fiery eyes burning into their fear-stricken face.

“M-Mozart! Of-of course Salieri wouldn’t be able to match up to you, he’s-he’s…” the source of the voice struggled to amend to Mozart.

However, Mozart cut them off by relaxing his face into a cheerful smirk and he then walked off in Salieri’s direction.

Mozart had to restrain himself from strangling the rotten old man in front of him. He knew that this old man was merely bad mouthing Salieri for the sake of being on Mozart’s ‘good side.’ Mozart no longer cared about this old fool and stopped listening when he started to insult Salieri.

Mozart didn’t stop the old man however, he let the old man rant on. Mozart eventually stared off into the void distance; imagining what this time could’ve been used to be with Salieri instead.

Cheers, screams of delight, and tremendous applause thundered down within the auditorium. Mozart took a deep bow and then quickly raised to search through the audience. But he didn’t need to look for long, Salieri was right in the front row. He was clapping with vigor; joyful tears in his eyes. He must’ve noticed that Mozart was looking at him, his smile grew more gentle and his eyes turned upward at him with immense affection.

More. Look at me more. Adore me. Devote yourself to me. Only me.

Mozart’s hands were possessed by his anger, his jealousy, and his frustration. They tumbled through the piano keys, creating a waterfall of intensity.

Mozart did not care if what he was playing sounded beautiful or not. His hands roared with voracity of love and madness.

Does he not know that others notice how slender his precious fingers are?

Does he not know that others notice how his waist is so unfathomably slim?

Does he not know that others notice how his buttocks seem so cushiony?

Does he not know that others notice how erotic his bosom is?

Does he not know that others notice how his smile is so gentle?

Does he not know that others notice how generous and kind he can be?

Does he not know that others notice how adorable he is?

Does he not notice that others would take advantage of him?

Does he not notice how vulnerable he is?

I must distance him from everyone else!

No one else can treasure him other than me!

And he can only adore me! He can only devote himself to me!

Mozart’s fingers halted; his breaths heavy. He was trembling with exhaustion and dissatisfaction. His blurred vision cleared to a piano with devastated keys. He slowly smiled; he cannot wait to be scolded by Salieri tomorrow.

“Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart!” shouted Salieri, his voice shaking with disbelief.

“Yes?” Mozart innocently questioned, grinning from ear to ear.

“How were you able to reduced a piano to…this?!” Salieri continued, gesturing to the wrecked piano.

“I was simply sucked into my own thoughts and my hands carried out my feelings through the piano,” Mozart said, tilting his head in a show of naivety.

Salieri flinched; his expression immediately changed into worry and concern, “Amadeus, are you alright? I am here if you need someone to confine in…”

“There is no need,” Mozart reassured. “I have already confined with the piano.”

“Then why not play again?” Salieri suggested, his eyes closing slightly and his lips curve up to his soft, kind smile. “If you do, then maybe I’ll be able to advise you and understand you better…”

Mozart’s breathing seemed to stop. His heart beat quickened into a rapid tempo of drum beats.

Did he figure ou- no, he’s too dense for that! But if I do what he says, will he notice my feelings?

Mozart shivered in anticipation and slowly smirked, “I’ll play again; let’s see what you interpret my music as.”

Mozart struggled for breath on his death bed. He gasped, he choked, and he sputtered. He desperately tried to fight against the grasp of death.

No! I still haven’t told him yet! He’ll come visit soon! Last until then! Confess then! Your love! Your sins! Hold on til then!

But his body refused. With every heave and release of air, the insides of his chest screamed in agony. His vision turned watery and a croak escaped from his mouth.

“Antonio Salieri.”

Was what his voice attempted to say but ended up being garbled noises. His vision muddled into a gray and then shifted into a blinding light.

“UuuuaAAaaaAAA, Mozart, I really don’t think-“ Gudao tried to warn but Mozart interrupted.

“Oh nonsense, Master! What harm is there for me to meet an old friend?” Mozart cheerfully said.

He opened the door energetically with a shout, “Salieri! I’m-“

“Gottlieb, MOZAAART!”

A loud roar erupted and a flash of black and red was rushing towards him.

“O, command seal, I command Antonio Salieri to stop at once! Furthermore, he is to be restrained from killing Mozart from now on!” Gudao shouted, assuming a defensive stance in front of Mozart.

The large monstrous creature shatters into a familiar figure. Antonio Salieri, looked just the same as back then, but he had a frenzy in his eyes and snarled through his clenched teeth.

Mozart did not expect that his subtle efforts of separating Salieri and the public would backfire in such a way after his death. He did not anticipate for Salieri to be infamous for a false accusation of killing him.

But…he was…delighted.

Mozart was delighted in the fact that Salieri would now constantly have him in his mind and thoughts. Salieri may simply have a sole desire to kill him but he doesn’t mind. If Salieri’s thoughts were to be only occupied of him. If Salieri can think of nothing else other than him…then Mozart would be fine if his thoughts were murderous.

But he wonders…what were to happen if he were to confess now? Centuries after their time, what if he were to confess his love now? What if he confessed the truth of his sins? Of how he prevented Salieri’s fame to spread? That this was due to his obscene obsession of him? What kind of face would Salieri have? What would Salieri react?