Minutiae

Yesterdays

He'd liked her last song. She'd seen the way his eyes had lit up and his hands had reached immediately for his guitar, craving the opportunity to add to the bare bones of voice and keyboard. Stevie laughed at his eagerness and pressed stop on the cassette.

"Enough, okay?"

"What?" Lindsey asked in a singularly unattractive whine.

"We've been at this for hours," she explained patiently, firmly. She wasn't exactly tired but a break would do them good; fresh ears and a fresh approach would help them in the long run. They needed to get this exactly right.

"We're musicians. It's what we do, Stevie," he said, brows furrowed and that annoying patronizing tone in his voice. Rolling her eyes, she leaned over and took the guitar from his hands, placing it carefully on the floor beside her. He followed as if she had ripped his arm from its socket. "Steviiiie."

"Yes, dear?" she asked, smirking, watching with satisfaction as he ran a hand through his dark unruly curls. Her hands itched to do the same... Putting the guitar behind her, she moved to sit directly in front of her boyfriend, one hand playing with the hem of his shirt and the other caressing his face. His jawline was so perfect, Stevie thought to herself. He watched her warily and she smiled, patting his cheek. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." Pushing him firmly down onto the piles of blankets they kept on the floor, she straddled him, running a hand down his chest to his belt buckle.

"Promise to be gentle?" Lindsey asked, grinning, his hand coming to rest on her waist.

"No promises," she replied, a glint in her eyes.

"Do your worst."