Eros watched him return to the piano and smiled g ently. He slowly lowered himself to the floor, sitting with his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his blue pants and his eyes moved to the man that was in front of him, once more entranced by his melody and the movements of his hands. He always admired those with musical, or artistic abilities. They were something that he would never have. He was not musically inclined. He could not draw to save his life. he was just boring. He could not do anything spectacular, so he liked to watch others that could. Instead of getting jealous or flustered because he was 'normal' or 'boring' he chose to be a watcher, an observer, and he was happy just like that.,