behold a dream .｡.:*☆ pink floyd imagines

syd #2

{ mail for IvyDex1, sorry for the wait! }

roger keith barrett. syd. four names for one boy with hazel eyes and smoky hair. he has the intense gaze of a poet and the wandering voice of someone searching for a secret. at least, this is all you can think as you watch him order a tea in the lounge. 

"do you want anything?" he interrupts your observations with a touch to your stockinged knee. 

"oh, yes," your gaze shoots up to the server. "i'll get what he got."

"good choice," syd smiles. he looks ghostly in the dark of the lounge and you fight the urge to raise your hand and push his locks from his forehead. "how have you been since i last saw you?" 

you know syd through roger, who knows you as the provider of all the chic clothing the band wears on stage. you felt magnetized to syd, perhaps because he was so different from quick-tempered roger, or quiet, sweet rick, or goofy nick. syd, in your opinion, was the best of it all. whenever he smiled, you felt obliged to smile. his hands, roughed from playing, were perfect to hold. and here you were, on your first date with him, mixing in the glow of the psychedelic lights. 

"good. i've been waiting by the phone for your call," you answer his question.

he tilts his head and rests it on his lifted fist, gazing at you. "i was waiting too. to call you, i mean. i was hoping you wouldn't think i was too forward."

your drinks arrive and you shake your head, warming anxious hands with your teacup. "i wouldn't have thought that at all. what if i had been the one to call?"

"i'd think you were desperate." he blows the top of his mug, steam whisking into your face. your eyes widen at his response, but he gives you a grin to settle your heightened nerves and a breathy laugh floats from you. 

"i almost forgot how comedic you are," you say and take a careful sip. the tea is almost burning but layered with delicate undertones of seeds and flower petals that makes you press your lips to it once again. 

syd swipes a touch along your leg and you look up at him. his lids droop and his mouth tilts in a lazy smile. "i'm glad roger told me about you."

his sudden confession sends your cheeks aflame with warmth. you grin for a moment into your mug, then turn to him and place a quick, chaste kiss to his chin. 

he laughs, touches the spot with his fingertips. "so, you're glad as well?"

you nod and finally get the chance to place his dark hair behind his ear as he leans to you. up close, you find a sprinkle of freckles across his cheeks and nose. his lips are slightly chapped and his eyes are open only to seek out your own. a bubbled projection of blue and green splashes along his image from the lights of the lounge.

"yes, very glad," you confirm. he touches your face, thumb lingering on the apple of your cheek, and urges you forward. your lips reach his first and you shut your eyes. gentle coziness flows between the two of you, like the start of spring after a long winter. you find yourself clutching to his shirt as your lips move, small pecks following the first long press.

he pulls away and is smiling. and like all those times before, the only gesture you can return is a smile.