Angel

Part 8

August 16th, 1980

~

During the next few days, Stevie and Lindsey had almost no contact. Lindsey had not approached her once, he didn't talk to her unless it had to do something with the show, he barely even looked her way. For once, she didn't take it personally. They had that conversation on the plane, she knew, he was protecting himself and she couldn't blame him. She also couldn't deny the void that his absence had created in her heart. He was constantly around her, but he really wasn't. She missed him. 

About an hour was left before the show in Dallas. Lindsey didn't usually ask for a separate dressing room, he was used to sharing one with Mick and John, but he did that night, he wanted to be alone for as long as he possibly could. Stevie found out where she might find him and was on her way to see him. If he wanted to see her that was.

Lindsey sat on a chair, his feet up on the small table, strumming his guitar, eyes closed. A soft knock caught his attention. If it had been Carol Ann on the other side, she would have already burst through the door. Maybe if he kept quiet, whoever it was would go away. Another knock, louder this time.

"Come in." Lindsey spoke up and turned his head towards the door. He frowned, not having expected it to be Stevie. "What are you doing here?"

"I come in peace." Stevie replied and closed the door behind her.

Lindsey stilled for a second then showed her to take a seat if she wanted to. Slowly, as if she was unsure about being there, Stevie approached Lindsey and sat down on the table in front of him, which resulted in them being much closer to each other than if she had taken a seat on the couch.

"I wanted to wish you good luck tonight." Stevie said, a shy smile on her lips.

"You could have told me that before we went on stage." Lindsey shrugged, his fingers still on the guitar strings.

"Well, maybe I wanted to see you." Stevie began fidgeting with her jewelry, which was a clear sign that she was nervous. It let him know that she was being sincere. "How are you doing?" It was a stupid question to ask, but they had to start somewhere.

"I'm good." Another shrug, Lindsey looked down and focused on his instrument.

"Linds..." Stevie placed her hand on his knee and he tilted his eyes up. "The past week or so has been tough, you don't have to hide it."

"It's easier this way." Lindsey repeated her own words and it was Stevie, who shifted her gaze this time. "Look, I'm fine. I still feel like a complete asshole, but I'll survive."

"Don't, please." Stevie shook her head, leaning forward in her seat, she brought a hand up to his face. "I'm here, aren't I? You didn't scare me away or anything like that if that's what you're thinking."

Sighing heavily, Lindsey put away his guitar, Stevie's hand dropped from his face and into his lap. Somewhat carefully, Lindsey took it in his and lifted it up to his lips. 

"You know, I love you, right?" Lindsey asked, seeing unshed tears in her eyes as she nodded her head. "Don't cry." He said, wiping away a tear that slipped out as if on cue. "We'll be okay. Maybe not right now or tomorrow, but..."

"Yeah." Stevie managed a small smile, turning her head slightly to kiss his palm. "I should probably get going. It's nearly show time."

"See you out there." Lindsey nodded, walking with her to the door. 

"Oh." Stevie stopped and faced him before she walked out. "There's... there's someone here tonight. You'll probably run into him after the show, so... I just wanted to let you know."

Left alone, Lindsey remained staring at the now closed door. He frowned. Who?