Something to Dream About {Slow Updates}

Seventeen

𝄞 Layla 𝄞

"How are you learning so quickly?" Malachi asked for the third time later that day when we had another guitar lesson.

I shrugged. "I spend all my free time playing."

"Even then...I couldn't switch this fast for months."

"Well, it's been almost two months."

"You're still good," he said, shaking his head. "Crazy talented."

His compliments had started to make my heart swell. I totally had a crush on him and I couldn't even run from that fact anymore.

"Thank you," I replied, a genuine smile on my lips.

He nodded. "So are you ready to tackle fingerstyle?"

I let out a sigh. "Sure, sure."

For a moment, he studied me with watchful eyes. "Is that what you want to do?"

"I just wanna take a quick break," I told him, looking around the music shop. My eyes lingered on the only hallway. "Where does that lead to?"

"Playing room and bathrooms."

"Playing room? What instruments do they have?"

"It's like a full recording studio back there. Wanna see?"

I nodded and we stood up before he led me to the backroom. He pushed the door open and my eyes widened at the sight.

There was a drum set, multiple basses, electric guitars, acoustic guitars, a keyboard, and a full recording setup.

"Woah," I whispered, stepping further into the room. "How many of these instruments do you know how to play?"

"Just, uh...well, pretty much all of them."

Damn, that's hot.

"Will you play them for me?" I asked, looking up at him.

"All of them?"

I nodded.

"That's awkward," he said.

"Please."

He gave me a look before sighing. "Fine," he said, walking over to the drums. He sat down, picking up the drumsticks as he looked over at me. "You've heard Everlong, haven't you?"

"Of course."

"Alright." He flipped one of the drumsticks, smiling at me one last time before he started playing.

His hands moved quickly and efficiently as he played the song without flaw. I watched slack-jawed, unable to think of a time I'd felt so attracted to someone.

More than that, though, I was wholly admiring his skills. He possessed more talent in his pinky than I did in my whole entire being.

He stopped the song short when he got to a good spot to pause, looking up at me with an indecipherable expression.

"Wow," was all I could say. "How do you even..."

He tilted my head with a lop-sided grin. "How do I...?"

"You say I'm talented," I laughed out. "When you... Do you hear me? I can't even conjure up words."

He scratched the back of his head, looking over at the window. "It's really nothing."

"Guitar next," I said. "Please."

"You've heard me play guitar."

"Not electric."