MELODY

MELODY 39

┏ 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑 ┐

By the time they had finalised the band members' details, the clock stroke midnight. Bryan rubbed the back of his neck, exhaustion creeping underneath his skin. He nudged Adam, nodding at the list on the screen.

"I think we're done," he said, a yawn escaped his lips a second later.

A warm hand touched his arm, startling him. Blinking, he smiled when Jackson eyed him. There was an unasked question in those eyes. Patting the hand, he turned his attention back at his friend, receiving a nod in return.

"We are," Adam said before he stood up, stretching his arms high above his head. "You gonna crash here?"

"Nah," Bryan said as he stood up as well, Jackson following suit. "I'm going to head back to my dorm."

"Alright," Adam said as he bent down to close the screen of his laptop. "I'll see you both on Monday then."

Bryan nodded, hesitating to leave when he caught the dark eyes of his friend. "Don't be quick to jump to conclusions when you see Sasha and Tay."

"I know," Adam said, smiling as they walked them both out of his apartment.

He could only hope that Adam would keep that in mind. Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced at Jackson once they were alone, walking out of the apartment building. The taller man didn't say anything, simply grasping his wrist to gently steer him to the direction of his car. He would've protested if he hadn't been so tired; it was late and he didn't want to impose on him more than necessary.

Once they were in the car, Bryan relaxed into the seat, eyelids threatening to close. Jackson still remained quiet, and he liked it. The silence wasn't unnerving nor was it tense. It was just comfortable. Lolling his head against the window next to him, he stared at the blurry images of the night city.

"Thanks," Brian said, earning a hum. "For driving me back to my dorm."

Jackson simply hummed again. A smile stretched on his lips, his heart tightening against his chest at the small things the taller man did for him. He could've called another cab or driver to pick him up, but the fact the guitarist took him to his car without another word was... nice. Curling his fingers to place them on his lap, he sighed.

"Where do you live?" Bryan asked, the question crossing his mind.

"In Rosefield Apartment," Jackson said, his voice quiet.

Bryan frowned. The name was familiar. "How does it look like?"

"It's a pink building. You would reach there through here," Jackson said, pointing to the road he would take usually.

Bryan's eyes widened. He sat up, staring at the guitarist for a few seconds. That building was at least thirty minutes away from the campus on the busiest days. Admittedly, with how empty the streets were now, Jackson would be home within twenty minutes, but it was late at night. And Adam's place wasn't too close to his residence either.

Nervously, he said, "Jackson, that's far from where we are now. You can just drop me off somewhere here and I can grab—"

"I'm already driving you," Jackson said, silencing him. "Don't be an idiot."

Frowning deeper, he said, "It's nearing half past midnight. You really want to drive back home this late?"

Jackson drummed his fingers on his steering wheel. "I've driven in later times. This isn't my first rodeo."