B.U. | Grizz Visser (The Society)

sunsets and silhouettes

part seven

"You look like shit," Sam chuckled, looking Grizz up and down as he stood in the doorway.

"Thanks," Grizz replied, his cheeks burning red as the boy's eyes trailed his body, "that's the look I was going for."

"Clearly," Sam replied with a smile, shifting his weight on his feet, "I brought your jacket back for you."

"That you did," Grizz repeated back to him, shaking his head slowly, simply staring at the boy's torso. He couldn't help but stare. The jacket looked so damned cute on him. The leather sleeves hung so loosely on his arms, and the fabric wrist pieces laid far down past the boy's knuckles.

"Can I come in?" Sam asked, raising a brow at the boy and regaining his full attention.

"Oh!" Grizz exclaimed, realizing he'd literally been standing, quietly staring at the boy in the doorway for some time, "yeah, of course, sure." Grizz stepped back, holding the door open behind his back and allowed Sam to enter the small room, Sam's head on a swivel.

Sam admired the photographs plastered on Grizz's walls and the small plants he kept on his windowsill. The room was small, yet tidy, each of his plants in a horizontal row, not one in front of the other by even an inch. Sam loved the smell of the boy's cologne that hung so subtly in the air, woven into the carpeted floor and seeping through his wardrobe, and he loved the way Grizz kept his shoes in a neat stack near the door. Boy, Sam was in over his head already.

"I like it," Sam explained, turning back to face Grizz. The heavy door slammed behind Grizz, suddenly causing him to jump in fear towards the shorter boy. Sam laughed in response.

"Shit, sorry, fuck," Grizz exclaimed under his breath, his head hanging low with his shoulders hunched. "Th-thanks," Grizz replied to Sam's compliment, his legs falling out from under him as he crashed onto his bed. "My mom decorated a lot of it, I did the photos though."

"They're really good," Sam smiled, his eyes wandering over the polaroid collection on the wall. Most of the photos were of landscapes and trees, some of riverbeds and sunsets, each holding a story Sam wished he could have been present to experience. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but Sam knew that nothing was worth the experience of living in that moment. He hoped that one day Grizz might tell him the stories behind his photographs, give him a thousand words worth of pixels, each individual syllable painting a detailed canvas in his mind. "This one is really pretty," Sam exclaimed, pointing to one photograph of a sunset with the silhouette of a girl in the centre, her hair flying in the night wind as she stood atop a large boulder on the beach. "Is this your girlfriend?" He asked, attempting to hide his underlying disdain for the answer.

"Hm?" Grizz raised a brow, sitting up to examine the image himself. "Oh, no," Grizz replied with a chuckle, "that's my best friend from back home. She's great and all but, no, not a girlfriend. Not for me, no." Grizz repeated the word "no" in his mind about a hundred times. Allie was an amazing friend and he missed her dearly, but he'd never feel anything for her... like that. No. After disconnecting from everyone in West Ham, Grizz wasn't really even in contact with her anymore. He missed her.

"Oh," Sam simply replied, nodding his head, blinking rapidly for a brief moment. He was still attempting to ask Grizz the obvious question without being too blunt about it. He figured asking about a girlfriend might do the trick. Guess not. "Do you have any plans tonight?" Sam asked, changing the subject and moving toward Grizz's bed, sitting along the edge of it.

The bed sank slightly as Sam sat down, causing Grizz's side to pop upwards.

"Not really," Grizz replied, "I'm pretty beat after tryouts today, though."