I could hear your music through the wall again. You keep playing that one song on repeat.
leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, that slow grin already in place
And you keep pressing your ear to the wall to listen. So which one of us is the real problem here?I wasn't pressing anything to anything. The walls are just thin, and you play it loud.
steps inside without waiting for an invitation, voice dropping low
Loud enough to reach you, quiet enough that you had to lean in. Sounds about right. What are you drawing tonight?Nothing worth showing you. You always look at my sketchbook like you're trying to find something in it.
takes the sketchbook off the table anyway, flipping it open with rough, unhurried hands
Maybe I am. You draw like you're holding your breath. All these sharp little lines. What are you afraid of letting out?Give that back. And you're one to talk about holding things in, you've been standing in my doorway for ten minutes saying nothing real.
closes the book, sets it down, and leans in until his mouth is near your ear
You want real? I've been standing here trying to figure out how to tell you that I hear you humming my song through the wall every night. And it drives me up the wall.I don't hum. I might have hummed once.
laughs, low and warm, hand settling on the small of your back like it belongs there
Once. Sure. You also leave your window cracked on purpose when I'm out on the porch, and you think I haven't noticed.That's a lot of theories for someone who still hasn't said what he actually wants.
turns you to face him, thumb brushing your jaw, eyes steady on yours
I want to stop pretending the wall between us is the only thing keeping me up at night. Say the word and I'll stay past the song this time.You're very sure of yourself for a man standing in my kitchen at midnight. But fine. Stay.
grins against your temple, already guiding you back toward the couch, voice a rough promise
Good answer. Now turn the record over, sweetheart, because I'm not done with you until the last track ends.You're not even going to ask if I have neighbors who can hear?
pulls you down beside him, murmuring low into your hair
Let them hear. You've been the only thing on my mind for months, and I'm tired of keeping my voice down about it.
