Two Degrees of Separation

Chapter 6: Falling

Author's Note: So surprise, surprise. I rewrote history again. :)

Chapter 6: Falling

After Scott had broken the tension, the writing session slowly gained momentum. Harry still couldn't help but feel bad that Scott didn't feel deserving of the success that came easily for others in their positions, but he also found that with each passing moment he enjoyed the man's company more and more.

Harry often became lost looking at Scott's tattooed arm, which was certainly helping as well.

"What?" Scott asked, pausing his writing in his notebook. Harry cursed himself for being caught in the act of openly staring.

"Like your tattoos." He drawled, trying to sound casual, strumming a few notes of his guitar. "Any meaning?"

Scott extended his arm and looked down. Harry refrained from licking his lips as his arm exposed some additional flowers sprawling on the inside of his bicep. It really was pretty.

"Each type of flower represents someone in my family," Scott replied, still looking down at them. "These larkspurs are for my mom. These carnations are for my sister, Lauren. The rose came first, that's for my sister, Lindsay. My dad is represented down here." Harry's heart swelled with how sweet this explanation was. He lifted his arm again, as if he were getting ready to flex a muscle. "And asters. Those represent me." Harry thought those were the most beautiful. He couldn't help but notice that the asters were the only section that was hidden unless Scott intentionally showed them.

"Why are they inside your arm?"

Scott shrugged. "Eventually, I'd like to fill it all in so it's one sleeve. What about you?"

"Me? Oh, my tattoos are absolutely random," Harry replied, with a laugh. He moved to sit next to Scott on the couch and pointed to a small scribble on his arm.

"The sixth member of your band made me get that," He joked. Scott thought back to James Corden's "Hexatonix" rant and laughed. He squinted and leaned closer, noticing the small "Late Late" logo on Harry's skin.

"Never let him pressure you into playing a game called Tattoo Roulette," he smirked. He pointed to several others, telling random stories about the conditions under which he received each. They laughed, easily, feeling nothing but comfort with one another.

The fact that they were coming up with some pretty damn lovely material was a plus. And the fact that Harry continuously made Scott smile in the most beautiful way he had ever seen certainly didn't hurt.

Now they were seated at Scott's piano, shoulder-to-beautifully-tattooed-shoulder, and Harry was mesmerized as he watched Scott's fingers dance along the keys, gently.

"This melody is really nice." Harry mused. Scott looked up at him and smiled in agreement.

"Sing the lyrics," Scott offered.

"What? I don't know how to fit any of what we've come up with, with this."

Scott smirked. "Just try."

Harry looked down at the lyrics scribbled on the paper in front of him.

"Slow down the chords?" He asked, and Scott complied, his fingers softly moving along the keys again.

I' m in my bed
And you're not here
And there's no one to blame
but the drink and my wandering hands

Harry shut his eyes, finding himself getting lost in the words of the song and the pleasant surprise of the lyrics fitting so perfectly with the notes that Scott was playing.