Status: I really just don't know what to do or where to go with this story, but as soon as I do, I promise you, I will update.
A l'automne
Chapter VII
Weeks progressed and we hung out and talked more and more it seemed. And much to my reluctance, I loved it.
We laid in his bed; close, but not touching. The city was well-awake outside the window. We had no intentions of anything particularly intimate, just being in the closeness of each other's presence. We fell asleep sharing a silence so wonderful and thought-filled.
The sun shone through the open window, it was morning, bright, and the air was cold. Norman lay facing down, and I decided to not disturb him.
In the living room, on the couch sat a presence not previously there the night before. The small boy that Norman adored infinitely.
There he sat, grinning.
"Good morning." I greeted.
"You spend the night?" He jumped right to it, spared no time.
I looked around, almost not knowing how to reply, "I did. When did you get here?"
"Not that long ago, my mom dropped me off." his voice trailed and his eyes wandered to the coffee table where sheets of paper was scattered. I followed his gaze. "Sorry."
I didn't know why he apologized unless it was for the 'mess,' if that's what you'd call it.
I sat next to him, "You play piano?"
"I'm learning, I'm not good yet." He looked down.
"I can help." I took the opportunity to bond with Mingus.
We took a seat at the piano bench sitting in the corner of Norman's apartment. We played and messed around for a little bit. He made me laugh, he wasn't an ordinary kid, which was something one could only hope for.
Mingus turned to me, happy, smiling; obviously happy for more common ground. He wasn't reluctant to me, which I thanked him for, repeatedly, in my head at least. "Play me something." Being the child he was, raised by the parents he had, he added, "Please?"
Who would I be to say no?
A song so familiar to me, so beautiful, and heartbreakingly haunting. It seemed like only mere seconds had passed. As I finished, I looked at Mingus, who in turn, looked mesmerized.
"Fluff, Black Sabbath."
Norman's voice came from behind the two of us. I was pleased he knew it.
"That was beautiful." He smiled, leaning against the doorway to his bedroom, shirtless, but in jeans.
"Thank you, I used to play all the time."
Norman began walking towards the two of us, "Well, I think you need to play more often," he then turned to Mingus, "Looks like you've got a new piano teacher." And winked at us.
As lame as it sounded I felt renewed excitement. I felt honored to help Mingus, and even more so that they'd welcome me to do it. I didn't exactly know why it made me feel the way it did, but it was very comforting, like a new sense of belonging, which I guess, is exactly what it was.
We laid in his bed; close, but not touching. The city was well-awake outside the window. We had no intentions of anything particularly intimate, just being in the closeness of each other's presence. We fell asleep sharing a silence so wonderful and thought-filled.
The sun shone through the open window, it was morning, bright, and the air was cold. Norman lay facing down, and I decided to not disturb him.
In the living room, on the couch sat a presence not previously there the night before. The small boy that Norman adored infinitely.
There he sat, grinning.
"Good morning." I greeted.
"You spend the night?" He jumped right to it, spared no time.
I looked around, almost not knowing how to reply, "I did. When did you get here?"
"Not that long ago, my mom dropped me off." his voice trailed and his eyes wandered to the coffee table where sheets of paper was scattered. I followed his gaze. "Sorry."
I didn't know why he apologized unless it was for the 'mess,' if that's what you'd call it.
I sat next to him, "You play piano?"
"I'm learning, I'm not good yet." He looked down.
"I can help." I took the opportunity to bond with Mingus.
We took a seat at the piano bench sitting in the corner of Norman's apartment. We played and messed around for a little bit. He made me laugh, he wasn't an ordinary kid, which was something one could only hope for.
Mingus turned to me, happy, smiling; obviously happy for more common ground. He wasn't reluctant to me, which I thanked him for, repeatedly, in my head at least. "Play me something." Being the child he was, raised by the parents he had, he added, "Please?"
Who would I be to say no?
A song so familiar to me, so beautiful, and heartbreakingly haunting. It seemed like only mere seconds had passed. As I finished, I looked at Mingus, who in turn, looked mesmerized.
"Fluff, Black Sabbath."
Norman's voice came from behind the two of us. I was pleased he knew it.
"That was beautiful." He smiled, leaning against the doorway to his bedroom, shirtless, but in jeans.
"Thank you, I used to play all the time."
Norman began walking towards the two of us, "Well, I think you need to play more often," he then turned to Mingus, "Looks like you've got a new piano teacher." And winked at us.
As lame as it sounded I felt renewed excitement. I felt honored to help Mingus, and even more so that they'd welcome me to do it. I didn't exactly know why it made me feel the way it did, but it was very comforting, like a new sense of belonging, which I guess, is exactly what it was.