Obedient Bitch

Chapter 17: Spill the tea

                                                  ━━━━━━━━━※━━━━━━━━━

Even though it was a rare occasion, Pete came to appreciate the moments when the chords of Vegas' guitar reached his room. He didn't try to hide it, he just didn't try to show it, and most of the time he strummed the strings when it was late enough that more than half the town was asleep, including Pete, which was a shame. His collection of songs seemed to be extensive, and yet, the boy was sure he hadn't listened to a fraction of them.

Sleep eluded Pete several times, until he was no longer in the mood to stay in bed. Something was bothering him, making him toss and turn as if needles were piercing his entire body, making it impossible for him to sit still and rest. But it was only when he stepped out of the room that the lack of sleep was seen as a gift, as he heard the slightly slow music chanting down the hall in a trail that led him, step by step, to Vegas. He was shirtless; his bare back turned to the boy, slightly bent forward. He was sitting on the side of the couch, diagonal to the balcony, and with his gaze lost on the horizon.

Pete crossed his arms, leaning briefly on the hallway wall in an attempt to identify the tune being played. Although they had similar tastes, each had his own particularity, which could be refreshing since it allowed for meaningful exchanges now and then. But that song he knew, which incited a small smile at the corner of his lip, especially when the man began to murmur the lyrics softly.

"When your baby leaves you all alone

And nobody call you on the phone(...)"

Pete closed his eyes, going back to the first time he heard that song, and how much he came to love it even more after he understood the meaning behind the words it sang. It was melancholic, and at the same time, it was able to warm you up with its catchy melody.

"Don't you feel like crying?

Don't you feel like crying?

Well, here I am my honey, c'mon, you cry to me"

His hair was loose, which covered up all the side of his face that might have been visible to Pete, and as silly as the remark was, the boy noticed that he didn't look at the guitar as he formed the chords. He moved his head occasionally, along with the music, but kept his gaze straight ahead - or maybe his eyes were closed, there was no way of knowing. He looked young. Not the physical youthfulness, but that of the soul.

Pete broke in without a second thought, letting his own voice echo through the room as he sang the next words. "When you're all alone in your lonely room..."

Vegas looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised, and mouth slightly open, but Pete gestured for him to continue playing, and started walking toward him in slow steps, following the music.

"And there's nothing but the smell of his perfume..." he continued, smiling at the change he made to the lyrics, and at the way the older man's eyes lit up a bit at that. The looks never left each other. "Don't you feel like crying?" Pete wiped away false tears. "Don't you feel like crying?" And then he whirled twice. "Don't you feel like crying?" He approached Vegas, and put his hand on one of his arms, running his fingers up to the older man's cascading hair. And leaning in, while removing a lock of hair from the man's eye, he whispered, "So c'mon, c'mon, cry to me."

Vegas' fingers remained on the strings, pressing them to release the correct sound, but he did not allow Pete to continue humming as he started a conversation. "Nightmare?"

" Sleepless." He threw himself into the armchair next to him, letting his legs hang over one side, and supporting his back on the other. "What about you? Sleepless too?"