July 2018
A warmth had settled in between the buildings and city streets; and June had shifted into July seamlessly, as if it were a bridge to a song.
Willow had spent much of the past few weeks laid out in the grass of the park nearby her flat. Quietly writing away in her notebook and more often than not, falling asleep to the feel of the sun against her bare legs. All her other time had become nearly divided between hours at the studio; a careful balance of writing and working on finding the perfect chord, mixed in with the recording. Nights spent in the backyard of Alex and Niall's house because they were the only ones with a proper barbeque.
And of course, some of her time had been spent in a cozy room in Hampstead.
Willow pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on top of them. Outside, she could hear the cars as they rolled past and the sounds of the city. Tea in the mug in front of her had probably long gone cold, and lost all appeal. Twisting her lips together, Willow tried to take the time to find her words.
"I worry people don't really change –that I won't really change. Does that make sense? I mean obviously you can change, and for me, I've tried to –there's something in me that has this addictive part and it's been two years and I know I can make myself change, and grow, and do better. Just worry that it's always gonna be there 'suppose, like some voice in the back of my head reminding me of how I was."
It felt unnatural to say her words out loud in that way. Willow had always poured her thoughts and fears and loves into lyrics. Set them to a pretty beat as if to distract from their meaning. Allowed them to be shared with the world, because people would hear a song and relate it to their problems, not Willow's. Speaking them out loud, to a relative stranger, left discomfort settled somewhere between her chest and her stomach.
"If I may be blunt –" Jane leant forward as she set her notepad aside. Willow noticed that she had stopped writing a while ago. Merely listened to the rambling.
But Willow liked Jane. She wasn't so old Willow felt like she was talking to her mum or nan, but she wasn't so young Willow felt as if she were just sitting around talking shit with Alex. Glasses framed her pale coloured eyes, and diplomas shone in their frames behind her. When Willow had walked in the first day she had seen the record player beside Jane's desk in her office and decided this would work quite well.
"You've been plenty blunt the past –" Willow cut her eyes to the clock in the corner and reached forward, cold tea would have to do, Willow needed to hold something in her hands. "Almost hour, why stop now?"
Jane's eyes crinkled as she smiled softly. It was a kind smile. And Willow knew enough about Jane to know she was about to call her on her shit. "I've been doing this for awhile you know, long enough to know there are some things about ourselves we just can't change. But with time, you figure out how to handle it. You control it, not the other way around."
"It's always gonna be there though." Willow whispered, something between a laugh and a scoff.
Because, Willow couldn't ignore the not so great parts of her life. It was all there. Good and bad. Fine and not fine at all. Thrown and jumbled together to create the perfect soundtrack.
"From what you've told me in only two sessions you're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. And when you're not, I think you've surrounded yourself with some pretty great people."
Honey from Willow's tea was sweet against her lips as she took a sip. The time hand ticked around the clock on the wall and Willow swiped her thumb across her lip, unable to keep the corner or her mouth from lifting. It had become, a thing whenever Willow thought about the people in her life.
YOU ARE READING
silver springs {h.s. au}
FanfictionA (kinda) short story about tattoos, the photographs you keep, comeback records, and what comes after. ~a post break up au~