(In the photo from left to right: Pete, Ray, Mick, Dave.)
Dave's point of view
I've been awake since five this morning, lying in bed hoping the other wakes, but it was a pointless prayer. I've been occupying my eyes by shifting them from the slightly brightening window to the opposite side of the room where the vanity dresser stood. I always woke in early hours in the am but there was nothing I could do. It was now nearing eight o'clock according to the ticking bedside clock. Since then, I'd been trying to drift back to sleep, but the thoughts that linger inside my head, whispering my lover's words, would not leave me be. Many times I contemplated getting up and going downstairs for tea or starting breakfast, but the frigid temperature of the bedroom made it impossible to do anything.
It was only the beginning of May, of course everything was blooming green and birds were singing, but there was the cold damp mornings that seemed to find its way into the blissfulness of Spring. The light from the sun did not reach my bedroom due to being on the west side of the house; the room was very dull at this time of day.
I shook my thoughts away and rolled over on my left side to see my love with his bare back to me. I inched closer, clung to him and wrapped my arm around his naked torso as I felt his body warmth seep into me. I nestled my head comfortably in between his shoulder and neck, and after a little while, I finally drifted to sleep.
****
I woke to the familiar skunk-like smell of an herb which we were all quite fans of. As I heard the flick of a lighter, I opened my eyes to see Pete in a baggy orange jumper with some stitching gone wrong on one of the cuffs. He wasn't wearing anything else and was holding a water bong in his lap, sucking in the smoke to his lungs. He noticed that I had awoken and handed me the tall glass piece as I sat up and tucked my legs underneath me. I smiled at Pete and he held the lighter in his hand, waiting for my lips to reach the top of the tube so he could do the honors. I pushed my hair out of my face and heard the flick and began inhaling with all my might, but in a few seconds my throat felt scratchy and it was burning and I coughed it all out. With my throat stinging, I felt a hand patting my back as I grabbed some blanket and covered my mouth, continuing to cough harshly. I handed the bong back to him and kissed the soft skin that made up the flesh of his cheeks.
Pete went through the process of taking another hit before placing the piece gently on the floor next to the bed and reached his arms over mine to my shoulders and kissed me slowly and passionately. I wrapped my arms around him and we sat to ourselves, enjoying the peace and quiet, for the stoners we were, in the morning.
My eyes grew heavy and they shut down back to the position they were in just a mere five minutes ago. A smile rolled across my face as my head rested on my love's chest and my face started to feel comfortably numb. I lay there, silent and happy for as long as it took for me to fall sleep.
Suddenly, Pete moved; my eyes shot open with a struggle of awareness as I felt the comforting warmth of his chest disappear from my reach. My eyes followed him out of bed and around the room, collecting articles of clothing. I was far too tired to care where he was going because I knew he wouldn't be far to find. I rolled over on my side, facing a vanity against the wall. It was dark mahogany and hand-crafted from the father that Ray and I share, long ago when we were living in London. Father made a lot of furniture that went into this house, worked his arse off for making wooden furniture as perfect as possible.
I guess Ray picked up that trait with his music, considering he spends most of his time rewriting songs over and over, trying to find the perfect melody, perfect words, perfect harmony. It always made me angry because when we played the first few different versions of one song that we focus on, I couldn't tell where we were taking it or what is becoming of the bloody song. He is scattered, can't focus on one thing at a time, tries a billion things at once.
