reader's gender is not specified! if i accidentally write any pronouns other than they/them for them please feel free to correct me in the comments!!
enjoy! -nyx
//
"play me one more, would ya wilby?"
the brown curls bounced as he tilted his head to the side, rolling his eyes, "ive already played you so many!" the small brunette exclaimed, twirling the stem of the little pink flower you gave him in between his fingers.
"just one more, so i can finish this flower crown, yeah?"
"what are you, five? flower crowns?"
"please?"
he rolled his eyes again and hoisted his too-big-for-his-small-body guitar from the bench next to him. "fine. what song?"
you hummed and plucked a white flower from the ground as the first test strum sounded. "i dont mind, whichever one feels best." he always sounded best when he chose the song.
he snuck a glance to you, "alright flower. whatever you want."
the dim lights of the bar and the hazy feeling of alcohol made it hard for you to focus on the sound when it wound its way into your ears. it was a familiar sound- a voice- one youd heard many times before.
your watery eyes raised to look at the stage. the melancholy song that passed through the singer's lips wound itself through your head as you gazed at the man.
"i hate to say it"
hes so familiar, but your intoxicated mind couldnt place it.
"but your sister was right,
don't trust english boys with far too much free time"
he was an attractive man, his fluffy brown hair and circular glasses. light brown eyes shining under the spotlight of the stage from beneath his lengthy lashes as he sung with half lidded eyes. his hands expertly worked over the strings of the guitar, slender fingers perfectly strumming just the right chords.
you felt something drip onto your hand and managed to tear your eyes away from the musician to look down. water?
another drop.
"oh," you muttered softly at the realization. you brought your hands to your wet cheeks to wipe at the heavy drops. you hadnt noticed you were crying.
whether it was from the partner who'd just left you alone in the bar or the soft voice of the pretty boy singer you weren't sure.
probably a mix of both, plus the alcohol.
when you looked back up pretty boy's eyes were no longer focused on the mic but flitting over the patrons of the pub.
"I'm a wanker, complete wanker,"
you sniffed quietly, reaching your hands up to swipe your sleeves under your eyes and wipe away the tear streaks.
lucky you though, you managed to make eye contact with pretty boy.
his gaze stopped on you, locking onto yours.
"A fucking waste of time."
god he was so pretty.
he gave you such a sly and sideways grin after the last lyric.
you were in a strange trance as he looked at you, unable to pull your eyes away. why was he so familiar?
then he stood, taking a small bow- jesus he was tall, "thanks for listening, im here every sunday and wednesday night."
