Don't you call her baby.
We're not talking lately.
Don't you call her what you used to call me...
A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them.
"Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of drea...
A little disclaimer: so I've recently been told the last two days that in this story called Aerial that the girl is nicknamed Cherry, and there is some French speaking involved in the story.. I've never read the story so if there are any similarities or parallels, it's by complete coincidence... but I don't really see how there could be any considering that one takes place in a circus and mine is 2016 touring Harry Styles... idk but I'm putting this in bc I don't want anyone accusing me of copying a story I've never read.
That is all, enjoy this chapter! Happy times coming soon.
He's going to have so many questions. He's going to think I'm a complete, and total crazy person. He's not judgmental, he never has been, but anyone would look at me the way that I am right now, and think I'm insane. The past two days have sucked. They've sucked worse than the entire past year combined, and that says a lot...
But I keep thinking to his face... What he's going to do and say when he gets here to me sitting on the side of the road, crying... If I could go back, and leave Dean I would... I would have left him while he was away, set him free so he could live his life in Nashville, and I could have moved on here...
A car pulls up, slowing, pulling off to the side, and I cross my arms, walking to it. I Take a deep breath, and open the car door, climbing inside. I keep my arms crossed, and look forward, not knowing how all of this is going to go. He pulls away from the site, driving away from where he found me without a word. We sit in silence as he drives, keeping the car steady at a comfortable pace for me. He doesn't ask a single question. He doesn't act like anything happened at all... He's treating this like a normal drive, a normal hangout between the two of us. He moves as we sit, his hand coming to my side of the car, covering mine.
I look over to him to see his face, but he continues to look forward, his thumb moving back and forth on my hand, comforting me softly without any words. I bring my legs up, hugging my knees to my body, and he moves his hand from mine, and onto my leg, holding my thigh, his thumb repeating the same movements as he had done before on my hand. I press my head car seat, and close my eyes. I'm safe now... I'm safe in this car with him. I open my eyes again, and look right at him as I do.
"Where are we going?" I ask softly, breaking the silence we've shared.
"My house." He answers simply.
"Why? Why not back to my apartment?" I ask.
"Because whatever happened... It happened because of something there... So you're not going back there until I know you're kind of okay."
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"Kind of okay?" I repeat, and he nods.
"Kind of okay... You don't have to be fully okay... Just kind of." He gives me a half smile, and I feel like crying again, the car going silent again. He still hasn't asked... He said call if I needed him, I needed him, he's here now, and he's not even asking me why he's here. He doesn't care... But why doesn't he care? He takes me all the way to his house, and when we get there he brings me to his bedroom, and opens the bathroom.
