Red and Gray

Guitar Strings

"Jeez, I haven't touched this in forever," Gray said.

It was Thursday, and he and Red were in his room. Immediately she sprawled all over his carpet, kicking off her shoes and socks, and lying down, holding a book over her head. Meanwhile, he'd picked up his old electric guitar, clean and surprisingly still in tune, despite his amp being covered in dust.

"No, you haven't," Red huffed. She was still somewhat annoyed at him. "Your mom let me borrow it a couple of times. I've been taking care of it."

"Define 'a couple of times,' Red," he said dryly. She refused to reply. He wiped the amp down and hooked it up. Playing a riff, he grinned. 

"What's that smile about?" Red asked, putting down her book, and crawling over to him on all fours. He shook his head. 

"Nothing," he said. "Have you just been - cleaning my room, playing this guitar, while I was gone? For a year?"

Her eyes dropped, and he got his answer.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" he said, putting it down. She lifted her head, her eyes incredulous, and it struck him that she thought he would be angry.

"You never bothered to get in touch when you were at your uncle's," she said tartly. "I had to remember you somehow."

But why would she bother? Friends were like sand through the fingers, to Red - she'd told him afterward that she could never find anyone who gets her, who was willing to stick around, who understands. 

He was willing to stick around, but he was none of that. Didn't she know it? But he's still her best friend. And she's still his best friend. He knew what she felt and he knew what she's like.

She should've dropped him and moved on.

"Nobody would have gone to the trouble of punching my ex-boyfriend's lights out after he cheats on me and damn near breaks my arm," she said. "Only you." Gray was very aware that he was sitting on the bed, and she was crawling closer.

"You're welcome," he said, but his chest was constricting. 

"I'm one lucky idiot, aren't I?" she whispered. "Of all the record shops in all the towns in all the world, I walk into the one where you're buying Simon and Garfunkel."

"It was Pearl Jam," he said, his voice starting to disappear.

"Doesn't matter," Red replied against his face, a whisper of a kiss - before feinting to his side like a ball, snatching the guitar off his lap and dancing away. "Those airheads I hung out with would never have done that for me. So yeah, I wasn't letting you go anytime soon."

Gray took a deep breath. Then another. Then another. "You probably should have," he said, but it came out like an accusation.

"Depends," she said, strumming. "Do you want me to?" 

"Hell NO!" Gray said, too loudly. Red stopped strumming and stared at him. "Then I won't." She stood up and gave the guitar back, adjusting the tone controls so it sounded softer, like an acoustic.

For a moment, he just stared, wondering if she wanted to sing with him. Slowly, he began to strum. And sing.

  Stay for tonight
If you want to
I can show you
What my dreams are made of,
As I'm dreaming of your face
I've been away for a long time
Such a long time
And I miss you there
I can't imagine being anywhere else
I can't imagine being anywhere else but here

She sat back, hair drifting over her shoulders, watching him, brown eyes unblinking. He just kept singing that same verse, strumming and plucking, but his eyes never left hers.

********

Song: If I'm James Dean, You're Audrey Hepburn by Sleeping With Sirens (Acoustic Version)

I totally love them. ;-)