Today's prompt: writing music/mood swings/Don Juan Triumphant

I have another post Love Never Dies one shot for you guys today! It should mostly make sense to anyone who hasn't watched LND, but I can answer any questions if needed haha. I hope you guys will enjoy reading it!

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I sighed as I stepped into the doorway of my father's study. He was hunched over his desk with his violin beside him, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. He'd been at this for hours upon hours with no end in sight. I was glad that he was at least doing something somewhat productive.

It was approaching two years since my mother had been killed, and my father was taking it especially hard today. I could always tell when he was missing Mother by his mood periodically changing from being testy and constantly grumbling to bouts of crying and general sadness. I felt bad for Papa and wanted to do what I could to help, but even after two years, I still didn't know exactly how. My mother's death was a constant struggle for the both of us, but we grieved in such different ways.

Today, he had been less ornery and more emotional. That's why he'd spent so long composing in his study. I didn't want to interrupt him, but at the same time, he looked to be in desperate need of a hug. He always made it clear that my interruptions were never a bother, no matter what mood he was in, but I still refrained when I could. I knew that composing was his way of coping with his grief. Who was I to deny him that?

A few minutes had passed before he noticed my presence and looked up at me with a small smile. "Hello, my boy. Can I help you with something?" he asked, his tone gentle.

I was glad to see him in a seemingly better mood than he'd been in before I'd left for school. "No, Papa, but thank you," I replied. "I just wanted to come check on you; I knew that you were feeling sad today."

"That's very kind of you," Papa replied, gesturing for me to join him at his desk. "Come here, my boy, and give me a hug."

I obeyed and hurried over, immediately wrapping my arms around my father's neck. "I'm sorry today has been difficult, Papa," I said softly, leaning my head against my father's. "I miss Mother a lot too."

"I know you do, Gustave. I'm so sorry," Papa said with a sigh, turning to press a kiss to my forehead. "Have you been feeling alright today?"

I considered this for a moment. After all, I was never truly "alright"; the weight of grieving my mother weighed on me constantly. Still, the day hadn't been as bad as some of the other days I'd had this week, so I told him: "Yes, Papa, I'm okay. I've just been worried about you."

"Well, I appreciate that very much, my boy," Papa replied softly, turning back to the composition on his desk. His eyes widened slightly when he realized I could see what he'd been working on, and he quickly shoved it into a pile of other papers.

"What was that?" I asked with a frown, furrowing my brow as I glanced at my father.

"Nothing; it was just an older composition I was touching up," he said with a casual shrug. He pulled out of my arms then and gave me a smile. "I composed an opera in my youth, and...well, let's just say I'm no longer pleased with its content."

"So you're fixing it, then?"

"I suppose you could say that, yes."

I nodded understandingly. When my father opened a drawer to pull out the sheet music of a different piece he'd been working on, I leaned closer to take a look. This song seemed to be rather sad, and when I looked at the lyrics, I suddenly realized who the composition was written for. "You're writing this one about Mother," I remarked quietly.

"Yes, I am." My father nodded, staring at the paper for a moment longer before he looked up at me. "Would you like me to show you how I compose?"

I immediately grinned at this and nodded eagerly, inching closer to my father's chair.

"Wonderful. I'll start by playing for you what I have so far," Papa said as he picked up his violin and tucked it under his chin.