✮ ✮ ✮REDEN.
—
"AT THE DOORBELL, THE WHOLE WORLD IS CALLING," He read, his accent tainting his words.
"-But I don't want to do anything without—" He paused, his unique hair whipping over his shoulder as he turned to look at the boy sitting at the other end of the table.
"You bitch." Tom laughed, looking back down at the notebook, reading over the lyrics of their brand new song.
The lyrics were clearly in the works, Tom reading over it as a request from his brother.
At the top in big letters, he read 'Reden'.Though, reading over the lyrics, he was sure this was a song with a deeper meaning.
Though a deeper meaning didn't always mean sentimental, especially not in this case.The lyrics, neatly written in his brothers fine print, were a representation of Tom's sex story, specifically with one out of many, though simply reading the lyrics could help him identify which girl they were talking about.
Bill obviously filtered his story, making it more heartfelt than Tom had told it.
It got Tom to think, something he didn't really do much, about the layers of that strange relationship with that girl.
Her number now hidden in the depths of his phone, side to side with a handful of other girls."Why not do you write the sex?" Tom blurted, snapping himself out of his uncomfortably sentimental trance.
He wasn't a man of feelings, not with her.
Bill laughed, reaching over the table to snag his notebook. "You don't have enough to write about." He shrugged, making Tom scoff.
He sat down, staring at the notebook Bill wrote furiously in.
'Everyone is pulling me, but I don't want to do anything without you.'
It was a long sentence, but it repeated in his head.
'We only wanted to talk..'
Tom looked over at the empty bed in his hotel room, his things sprawled out and about. It was a mess.
It wasn't always a mess, at some point it was clean, she was there.'And now you're laying here.'
She was laying there at some point. There next to him.
They only wanted to talk, they laid next to each other.
Talking.
Reden.
—
"What are you thinking so hard about?" She laughed, standing at his door. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts."
Tom looked down at her, his arm propped against the doorway. She was beautiful.
Her hair was distinct, she was distinct, recognizable, he could pick her out of a crowd of all the women he ever found attractive.