𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳༉‧₊˚. ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʟʟ

𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲.

"THAT ONE HAD BAD VIBES."

Delia insisted as they walked out onto the sidewalk from looking at a fourth apartment of the day, Chris was beginning to get tired from following her around.

"Right? I felt like someone was watching me." He said sarcastically, focusing on kicking a rock along the sidewalk.

Delia's mouth shaped into an 'o,' "me too!"

He laughed, knowing she was totally serious. "Not actually, Del."

He held the door open for her as they stepped into a record store, Wall of Sound. She gravitated towards the alternative section, Chris trailing her.

"Look what I found!" Delia held up the Screaming Life/Fopp compilation, pointing to Chris on the cover. "What a handsome young man." She looked up at him grinning as he took the record from her, putting it back on the shelf. "I was gonna get that, I love supporting the local bands, Chris."

"I'll get you your own copy, I'll even sign it."

"No way!" She gasped as she continued flipping through rows of records, laughing along with Chris as the cashier sent them dirty looks.

They walked out of the store empty handed after browsing for much too long, finding somewhere to eat next. The sky was surprisingly clear, so they went to a 7/11 and bought pizza, bringing it to a nearby park where they sat on a bench side by side, observing the people who passed.

"Y'know, if you want you can just live with me." He suggested, between bites of the pizza. "I'll clean out the office." The office, a smaller bedroom turned into storage for his high school drum set, few guitars and other equipment he'd collected over the years.

"You want me to?" She turned towards him, surprised.

"Of course I want you to." He responded, his words sounding sarcastic, though the statement was true.

"Okay. Sure." She nodded, smiling happily. They continued eating in silence, and Chris wondered if he'd made a mistake with his offer.

They finished their lunch, walking around downtown Seattle before returning home later in the afternoon. Delia helped Chris clean out the office, though they got distracted when she grabbed his Strat and begun to play, getting him to join her with his Les Paul.

She attempted to play a Soundgarden song, Loud Love. Chris laughed when she butchered it, saying that she was playing it all on the wrong strings.

"I wrote it, I know- trust me." Is what he said when she'd protested, insisting that she was playing the song correctly.

Eventually he'd taught her the right way, first having to fret the correct notes for her while she picked them. They went back and forth between playing together and moving her stuff in the small room until it was nearly sunset.

The two now sat side by side on the fire escape, watching the sunset which was barely visible through the low fog, though Delia insisted they watch it. So Chris complied, gazing out into basically nothing as mist collected in his curly hair and Delia waved away the smoke rings that he blew out slowly.

༺✧༻

Delia sat in her new room, trying to stay quiet as her old turntable played Houses of the Holy. She rearranged a few of her belongings many times over, trying to make them look right on top of the dusty dresser in the corner of the room. Jasmine incense smoke along with the orange-ish light that her lamp gave off clouded the room and slipped out her window.

She couldn't help but feel like some lost little kid that Chris, a much more stable person, had taken in. She knew that wasn't really the case, that he had offered her his home because they were good friends. But she had always felt like a burden, even with her closest friends.

She began absentmindedly singing along to the record, forgetting her previous thoughts as she opened an old notebook to relive past moments.

Chris walked half asleep to the bathroom, passing by Delia's door where he stopped for a moment and listened, pleased to hear her singing, and could imagine her cross legged on her bare mattress with either a book of poems or a journal in her lap.

He walked back from the bathroom, just as her door swung open. "Chris?" She whispered, as if they weren't the only ones there. She stepped a few feet closer to him, squinting through the dark. "Thank you." She hugged him tightly, but pulled away quickly.

"Sure." He responded, sounding almost like a question, she'd already slipped back inside her room and the record had stopped, along with the orange light that had spilled out from under the door. He watched the place where she'd just stood for a moment before tiredly returning to bed. Delia was the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep, how she'd always be something of an enigma no matter how many long years they'd known each other, her odd sense of humor, her hazel eyes.

He thought of her, though not in an odd way. In an assuring way, that he knew she was sleeping soundly just in the next room, seemingly happy and healthy.

Delia thought of Chris too, knowing how lucky she was to have him just a short walk through the living room away, knowing that even if she felt she had no one, that wouldn't ever apply to him. He'd always be there, and had proved it time and time again.

༺✧༻