anything in return | frank ocean [+18] complete

quickly

Lon

come with me to the studio today.

Bee

i have a lot of shit to do todayyyyyuh...

Lon

bless me with your chakras or i'll send you a picture of me pouting.

The next morning started with me being summoned by none other than temptation, and I – despite myself – let it happen without a fight. This had to be pretty important to him to be worth bringing out the puppy dog eyes, and I wasn't in any way fit to resist that this early. Even with the amount of phone calls and emails I had on the chopping block for today, determined to get everything for my party mostly confirmed and locked in, there was still something I wanted to do more, somewhere I wanted to be more...

Just one of the things that came with the territory of whatever it is we are.

At the drop of a hat we both knew how to wiggle one another into schedules, knowing that these stolen moments could become few and far between. I texted him a quick okay before tossing my phone unceremoniously back into my pillow, getting up to stretch and do some hygiene stuff. Afterwards, I threw on some tights, a tank and one of his hoodies before grabbing my computer bag, phone, and keys, heading out the door with my hair still damp.

Just like I assumed, we were alone.

I knocked softly, politely, before I opened the door.

It took him a minute to look up – probably trying not to lose the line he was writing before acknowledging my presence. He was too much of a perfectionist for me to expect anything less. This was his job, his domain, his space, and I respected that. I knew how it was. He was like that with everything. I took the moment to take it all in. Many of my favorite songs had been written here, laughs, major inside jokes were made on a couch in the corner with the Tyler s and Thebe s of this world, where I've sat in this space with a my favorite people, and even having intelligible conversations with the Pharrell s and Rick Rubin s of this world.

Things had been changed since the last time I'd been in Studio C; the paint was a shade of yellow I didn't think I'd ever seen before, there were shinier new knobs to turn, a brand new red couch turned at just the right angle to frame the room, carpet replaced with better carpet, the color reminding me of chocolate...it was warm in here. It was designed with colors that reminded me of home. Everything may have been upgraded but the history it held could never be purchased in IKEA. No matter how good the room looked, or, how well it fulfilled its function, or, how much it was to just sit in here for an hour, he was still the focal point. Everything else might as well have just been wallpaper.

I was given just enough of a window to admire him. The length of his eyelashes kept his darting eyes hidden as he scribbled quickly, not wanting to lose his momentum.

He brought a hand up, skimming the paper before rubbing the back of his neck. He was tense there, where he kept all his stress – the human definition of Galileo with the world on his shoulders, but he was in a good mood.

I could tell by the way he was tapping his Jordan-clad foot to some music in his head, subtly harmonizing to the melody of it, probably...reminding me of the beach...the way he was sitting was so relaxed. He wasn't predictable in the slightest, but the Virgo in me noticed everything he did without thinking. My frequencies were always tuned to him without even trying. And I knew he felt at home here, and I couldn't blame him. The few years he'd been in the limelight and this was the place where he let his creativity roam free most of the time.