Something to Dream About {Slow Updates}

Seven

♪ Malachi ♪

Layla and I were sitting in chairs behind the counter, facing each other. She held her guitar in her lap, a wrinkle between her brows as she played.

"C," she muttered to herself, strumming down for four beats. "And G." She tried to switch quickly, but when she played the strings again, they were muted. Her shoulder slumped over as she let out a groan. "For fuck's sake," she muttered.

"You got this," I said. "Just try again."

She looked up with a scoff. The second her eyes met mine, I felt a familiar racy feeling. "I don't got this," she replied.

I pursed my lips, considering alternative options to help her get it. "Alright," I finally said. "Try G6 instead."

She blinked a few times. "What."

"Same as G but without the ring finger. You'll learn how to switch between C and G6, then progress to G later."

"Okay, so...G without the ring finger." She positioned her fingers to G, lifting her ring finger up. Slowly, she strummed, then looked up to me for approval.

I nodded. "Yeah. Like that."

She smiled, looking down. "Okay." Then, she re-positioned her fingers. "C," she said, strumming a few times. "G6." This time when she switched, it came out a lot cleaner.

"Yeahhh," I said. "That's it."

She smiled at me again, intensifying the buzz in my veins.

"Now start from G6 and switch to C since that's how the song goes."

She did exactly that. She was a little slow to switch between the chords, so she tried again. And again. Until she was able to do it smoothly.

"There you go," I said. "You're a quick learner."

She tilted her head, looking into my eyes. "Yeah?"

I swallowed nervously before nodding. "Yeah. Okay, so next is E minor."

She nodded, going back to focus-mode.

"Index finger on A; second fret. Then middle finger on D, also on the second fret."

She positioned her fingers accordingly. "Like this?"

"A little lower."

She moved them a little higher.

"No, no," I said, shifting closer to her. I pushed her fingers down by her knuckles, feeling a weird thrill at my skin touching hers. "Down a little closer to the fret line. That's how your guitar works to get a clear sound."

"Ohh."

I dropped my hand reluctantly, watching as she strummed the chord.

It came out a little muted.

"A little more pressure."

She pressed her fingers into the strings harder, then strummed again. This time it came out clearer.

"Good," I said.

She looked up at me with rosy cheeks before clearing her throat and looking back down. "So what's next?"

"The song is G, C, E minor, then back to C. Try that."

From there, we worked through the chord progression until she could switch between the chords smoothly.

"G," she muttered to herself as she strummed the chord. "C, E minor, C."

Anytime she looked down, I took the opportunity to admire her.

She was beautiful. Beyond comprehension. Not just physically, but every single thing I knew about her was beautiful. Her kindness, her ability to learn this quickly, and honestly, just the way she carried herself. I admired her almost as much as I wanted her.

When she looked up at me for approval, I smiled and nodded.

"You're doing good," I said.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice devastatingly soft. "Oh, also, I want to tell you before I forget—I'm throwing a party for New Year's. You should come. If you want."

She'd never invited me firsthand to one of her parties. It was always my friends that got me to tag along. I usually said no, but I wasn't going to deny anything this girl asked of me.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "If you want me to come."

"I do."

I swallowed nervously before hastily telling her, "I got the light bulbs."

She looked confused for a moment, and then realization dawned on her. "Right. Um... Are you mad?"

I raised an eyebrow. Mad? "Why would I be mad?"

"I don't know," she said looking down at the guitar in her lap. "You just didn't look happy. You don't have to look happy either, by the way."

"It's—"

"I don't expect anything in return, that came out completely wrong. I was just making sure you weren't upset—"

"Layla—"

"And if you are that's okay, I mean, your feelings are valid, but I'm not gonna not buy you something if you need it—"

"Layla."

"Cuz that would just be rude. But if you are mad, then—"

I grabbed both of her hands, holding them in front of the guitar. Something must've possessed me because that was a gesture I wouldn't have done with anyone else.

But Layla wasn't just anyone.

She met my eyes with pink cheeks.

"I'm not mad," I told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. "No?"

"No," I said, reluctantly letting go of her hands. "I just wanted to say thank you. That's why I brought it up."

"Oh," she exhaled with a smile of relief, glancing away. "Sorry, I don't know why I'm so nervous right now."

A grin tugged at my lips. "You're nervous?"

She sighed. "I shouldn't have told you that."

"Why not?"

"I don't tell guys stuff like that."

I had no idea what that even meant.

"But I hope your room has light now," she deflected, looking up at me without quite meeting my eyes. "It can't be good for your eyes to live in the dark like that."

My lopsided grin didn't leave my face no matter how hard I tried to will it away. I looked like an idiot, I was sure of it. But I couldn't help myself. "You don't have to do that, you know," I said. "You don't have to buy me anything when you're already paying for these lessons."

She let out a sigh. "I want to though."

Her eyes held mine for only a second before darting away like she couldn't believe she said that.

"Well, where were we..." I quickly changed the subject to get a hold of my emotions.