Touchy

Chapter 16

Okay, this one's long, but I think it's quite cute, so yeah, enjoy.

Four walls make up the rectangular room that isn't that oblong in shape. It's pretty close to being a square. The walls, what's left of them, are a cream colour. Hiding the lick of paint are tens of posters – more specifically music posters. And not just some of the shitty ones you hear of nowadays, on his walls are the classic, real artists, the legends of their time. There are four Queen posters, two Prince ones, a David Bowie one, a Bob Marley and a few more such as Frank Sinatra. It's clear he's into his music just from that, let alone from me seeing the acoustic guitar in the corner or the piano that's pushed up against the wall where a window sits situated a few inches above. Music with a view.

Letting go of my hand, he turns round to me just inside the threshold of his room. "Welcome to my room," he announces in quite a dead tone of voice. It makes me think that his parents downstairs have had an impact on his mood. Placing a hand to his head, he drags it down his face like he's melting like hot wax. "Please, take a seat," he offers, gesturing towards his bed. "Would you like a drink? Or something to eat? It's no problem for me if that's what you think."

I stop from rolling my eyes as I perch myself down at the end of his bed. "A drink please," I finally settle for.

"Sure. What would you like?"

"What do you have?"

"I think there's flavoured water. There's definitely orange and apple juice and coke, that I do know," he says through a smile showing me he's more relaxed now.

"Orange juice please," I set on. He smiles and turns to go but then I remember something. "Wait, can you check condensation for me please?" Looking back, he nods and then vanishes. I hear his retreating footsteps, leaving me in his room.

To occupy the time, I take it upon myself to study some of the posters and other bits and bobs I can spot around his room. There are some guitar picks adorning his window sill above his piano, not guitar. There are actually five Queen posters, not four and he has a red fabric guitar case flopped down beside the actual thing.

"One orange juice for the lady," Phoenix announces upon returning with two glasses in each of his hands. Accepting the one he offers to me with a smile, I take a sip of the chilled liquid whilst he moves round to sit down on my right, closer to the window, closer to his piano. To my surprise though, it's not anything in the room that he builds conversation on. "I'm sorry about mum and dad, they're always so eager to see who I'm hanging around with," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand before he takes a sip from his identical glass.

"You don't need to apologise over that, my parents are the same. When I get home –" I say finding my eyes glaring over at the wall with excitement. "– I'm going to be interrogated about now. Before I even left, they stopped me in the doorway to see where I was going so you don't need to be sorry."