The vampire was hardly astonished by his lover's ignorance on the composure he had so chosen for tonight's display of his love of the arts. After all, he was well aware by now of the King's decided lack of knowledge when it came to the classical world Sebastian himself so adored. It was knowledge he would surely beset upon his lover as time passed and too their relationship only continued to foster and blossom. Regardless, as it was now, Sebastian was perhaps entirely too keen to inform Dorian exactly of whom Alexander Scriabin was as he led the way through the hallways of his home and into that often empty ballroom. "Alexander Scriabin was a Russian composure. He was a controversial bloke. Everyone in the soviet scene either lover him or bloody hated him. But after his death he was...quickly forgotten." A small shrug crossed the vampire's shoulders and yet, even he had to admit the shame in that. For all he had accomplished within his life, for all he had affected Russia, Alexander hardly held a candle to Sebastian's own mentor. Then again, very few could even attempt to hold a candle to Chopin in the first place. Still, such a history lesson was quickly cut off as the vampire crossed the polished floor of the ballroom, his strikingly blue eyes settled only upon that ivory piano.

His own voice in those sweet moments was delicately soft as he greeted that piano, his fingers brushing against the polished surface. His adoration for that piano was interrupted only by the sound of Dorian's inquiry. A soft huff left his lips, that boyish pout once again crossing his lips. "Maybe." He muttered, glancing down at the piano. "Besides, people get names and they all turn out to be damp squibs. Timothy is far more reliable, welcoming and better then all of them anyways." He commented, clearly quite opinionated on the topic. After all, the piano was perhaps far more important to him than most things in this world, surely it too deserved a name? Still, he hardly bothered to explain the delicate intricacies that so came with naming a piano. After all, he'd seen that look before on the face of exactly one other individual - William had once regarded him with that same eyebrow raise when he had been introduced to the very first Timothy all those years ago. Still, he was all too willing to brush off that look of amusement that had crossed the features of his lover, instead settling in front of the piano with the smallest gesture of his wrist for the King to so join him.

He watched in silence as Dorian's own hands brushed across the polished keys of the Steinway, a small simper slightly tugged at the corner of his features before the vampire's lips parted. It was with a marked hesitance that he voiced that which he was entirely assured was going to occur. He was all too aware of the astonishment that crossed Dorian's features and yet, the vampire could do little more than nod in confirmation. After all, he could hardly explain the extent of that which he was capable of - that affinity was rather foreign to him. It was one of few in his arsenal that he so lacked control of in the slightest. Still, the vampire hardly offered any other word in this regard, merely watching as Dorian so seemed to consider this very fact before offering the smallest of nods. Sebastian could hardly deny the relief that filled him to know Dorian was still game for this, despite the forewarning he had so provided. His own head bobbed ever so slightly, a soft breath leaving his lips as he muttered in return, "Here goes."

It had been years since he had actually played for someone and yet, his skills with that instrument had hardly diminished in any regard since he had so fine tuned that craft under Chopin himself. His fingers reached out to rest upon those keys, his thumbs finding those C notes with the ease of one who'd played for years. There was hardly a hint of hesitation before his fingers so began to find those keys, that melody so sweetly pouring from the inside of the piano. The tempo was soft and whimsical, almost sad in it's initial notes before the speed only increased and with it too, his affinity so flared to life. Although he had chosen Alexander's piece particularly for the serenity it might provide, that fluttering tempo that momentarily took over the prelude was likely to affect his companion as much as those softer notes that followed in it's wake. The vampire's glance shifted momentarily to his companion, ensuring his lover was entirely okay and yet, his fingers failed to hesitate in their playing. This was, after all, the very art he'd so lost himself within so often. In this alone, the vampire was more than capable of bearing his soul, only vaguely aware of the true effect his undeniable passion for this might have upon those whom would hear it.