Hurricane

Months went by. One, then two. Jared called every day to make sure I was okay. So did Shannon, but I didn't pick up his calls. I told Jared to tell him I was fine and left it at that. It was a long time before I even felt like I had anything to say to him. So much had happened over those two days that I didn't even know how I felt for a long time.

The conclusion I ended up coming to was basically this: I'd overreacted. Dramatically. But so had Shannon. I'd been a jerk. A big one. But so had Shannon. I needed to make it right. I needed to apologize. But so did Shannon. We needed to figure out if we could make this thing work, because the thing I'd realized more than anything else over those two months away from him was that I loved him with everything I had. Despite everything that had happened and everything that had been said, I still felt exactly the same about him as I had from day one. I loved him, even if he was a giant jerk with a too-big temper.

I called Jared to ask where Shannon was, but I didn't even have to ask because as soon as Jared answered the phone, I could hear the undeniable sound of Shan beating his drums in the background. I told Jared I'd be there, and he assured me that he'd clear everyone else out of the studio so that Shannon and I could have some privacy. I made him promise not to tell Shannon I was coming, and he reluctantly agreed.

As I walked through the studio doors a half hour later, I hesitated. I didn't know what was going to happen when I got in there; I had no idea really how Shannon was going to react. I kept thinking about the possibility that he would just be more upset with me for not answering his calls, which would make total sense.

I heard him long before I saw him. He was playing a song I'd never heard before. It was fast and incredibly loud, just the way Shan liked it. I stood just outside the studio for a long while just watching him through a crack in the door. It seemed that somehow over those two months I'd forgotten just how gorgeous he was. He was shirtless and I could see every muscle in his back and arms, including the one that was now out of its cast, ripple as he played. His hair seemed to have grown a little and was tossed into a bun on the back of his head. It flopped around as he played, threatening to fall loose. I stood there for a long time, mesmerized by the music and by the absolutely beautiful man.

Finally, I worked up the courage to go in all the way. He didn't stop playing when he saw me; didn't even seem surprised that I was there. He just kept going, growing more passionate and into the music as the minutes passed. I watched in silent awe until he was done. When he did finally finish, I tossed him a towel from the table next to me. He caught it easily and wiped the sweat from his face and arms.

"Some people work out, I do this," he said, catching his breath.

"That was fantastic, Shan," I said, and he smiled just slightly.

"New album soon," he said simply, and I nodded.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes before he really looked at me.

"Your hair's longer," he said, and I could feel him really studying me.

"Yours too," I said, meeting his eyes for the first time since I'd been there. They were different too. They looked hurt and seemed to be permanently rimmed with red. Jared had told me multiple times that Shan wasn't really sleeping, and it showed.

"Evey,-" he started, but I shook my head.

"Don't. I'm sorry, Shan. I don't know what happened. I overreacted about all of it. I was such an ass. I'm sorry I freaked out on you, I'm sorry I broke those glasses, I'm sorry I left, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize what an idiot I've been," I said, and his eyes changed again.

"I was an idiot too. I don't know why I acted the way I did. Everything I did and said in those two days was ridiculous. I was just so fucking scared of you; of losing you. I was insecure and jealous about nothing. I didn't want to fuck it up, and then that's all I ended up doing," his voice was steady and strong, but his eyes were threatening to pour tears.

"You didn't fuck it up by yourself. We both fucked it up. You were right when you said we rushed things. We got in way too deep way too fast. We barely even knew each other when we started dating, we'd only been together six months when we moved in. We rushed, and it took its toll," I said, reciting from an imaginary pad of paper inside my head. I'd been planning everything I wanted to say for weeks.

"I don't know what that means," he said, his eyes clouding over with the slightest hint of anger.

"It means we need to talk about this thing. We need to decide if it can work. We need to really decide if we're good for each other. I'm not saying by any means that I'm giving up on you; I promise you that's not what this is. I'm just saying that we both need to put in a lot of work," I said, and he nodded slightly.

"I love you," he said, the words escaping his mouth seemingly before he could even stop them. "I'd do anything for you. I'll do everything I need to to make this right again," he continued, staring right into my soul. I nodded at him, unable to keep my smile concealed.

"I love you too, Shannon, and of course I'll do everything I need to to make this right again. I don't want to have to live without you ever again," I said, and in one swift movement, he was up off of his drum stool and standing right in front of me.

"You won't have to," the words came out in a breathy whisper, and his eyes grew mischievous.

"I'm not having sex on a recording studio floor," I said, knowing that that's where his thoughts were going. He smiled devilishly and wrapped his muscular arms around my waist and pulled me in closer.

"No?" he growled, kissing me gently at first, and then more and more passionately.

"No," I mumbled into his lips, and I felt him smile.

"We could go back to the apartment. But keep in mind it's ten minutes away and there's probably traffic," he said in a strained voice, and it was obvious that he was doing everything he could to restrain himself. I giggled into his ear and watched the goosebumps rise up all over his arms and chest. He let out a growl that seemed to be completely against his own will. I stared into his lust-filled eyes and was momentarily in awe over how ridiculously sexy he was.

"Ah, fuck it. I could have sex on a recording studio floor," I said with another giggle. He let out a low groan and instantly all but tackled me to the floor.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," he whispered as he kissed me again.

"I love you," I replied, kissing him back and basking in a feeling that can really only be described as returning home after a long time away. I knew now that Shannon wasn't just a guy. He wasn't just someone to spend time with. He was my home. He was my home, and he always would be.