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{ i’ve been playing the piano for sixteen years now }
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Croatia

seen from Croatia

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Romania

seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from United States
seen from United States
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{ i’ve been playing the piano for sixteen years now }

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curmudgeonsaurus-rex:
continued from here.
❊ both of them to accidentally fall right into a thorn bush.
William didn’t bother trying to muffle the string of curses that left his mouth when he felt himself collide with something… or someone… and before he knew it, found himself being scratched from all angles by thorns. And of course, the humiliation that came with the fact that he had just been bowled over right into a bush. He was definitely going to be late now. Hauling himself out of the prickles, he fixed his askew glasses. “Perhaps you should watch where you’re–”
Everything went still and his blood ran cold, eyes widening in confused shock. There, still in the bush, sat… himself? I do not get paid enough for this.
——; The specifics of how he had managed to crash into someone else and consequently ended up in a thorn bush with the other man was an embarrassing mistake. He had only looked away for a second, so sure of his path — or so he had thought, though his calculations had clearly been off. The added insult to injury, apparently, as the reaper attempted to free himself from the tangle of painful thorns.
William halted his attempt when the other began to speak, already prepared to argue his way out of fault for the situation, but all hostility dropped from his features at the sight of the speaker’s. This...wasn’t possible, was it? What he saw, however, was undeniable: the face that looked back at him in shock and confusion was his own.
William remained were he had fallen into the bush, all thought of the annoyances of the thorns temporarily forgotten in favour of one question.
“ Do I truly sound like that? “