Parachute I Adam/Blake I Chapter Two: Blue
Title: Parachute
Author: Me
Rating/Warning: Eh....if you are in this fandom, then it's PG-13, but know that there's Adam and Blake, who love to fucking swear! May increase later.
Words: Around 2, 900
Pairing: Adam/Blake ~of course!
Warnings: Cursing, disability, possible thoughts of suicide, angst, etc.
Notes: This is for a user on here, who's name escapes me, who wanted a disibility! story. This is my crack at the prompt, I hope it works!
AN: This chapter is dedicated to riversavesworld , who very nicely DEMANDED more of Honey Love/This story, so I ended up writing this today. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT~!
ANN: This is all Adam, there will be Blake next chapter !
Summary: Jumping into the unknown was risky, especially when all you knew was the wind racing past your ears. He didn't need it though, his sight; he had Blake.
ENJOY!
XxX
His designer sneakers, with gel insoles since he’d be damned if he had arthritis later on, took more effort to move as the chill that had been around him wavered before vanishing to be replaced by heat. It was vacant of moisture and without the glare blinding him (even further, he grimly chuckled) he knew that he was still in Los Angeles.
Changes in temperature were the easiest way to tell what the hell was going on; the sun taking a sledgehammer to his skin was followed by the echo of the noisy snarl known as traffic, combined they shattered his calm cocoon comprised of blessed air conditioning and swirling piano notes.
Nervousness was not becoming of a rising music star, so to be prepared he required a soak of at least twenty minutes in the least complicated sound he knew, classical. It was his own version of meditation; frankly he thought it put the priests and yoga women to shame. It was smooth and unfazed by vocals or guitar riffs, just the chill of the keys he could picture under his fingers.
They were firm, unwavering, and sleek; he had lost the black supporting them along with every other piece of imagery, only a few pictures existed that had not been burned in the fire he had set after the event. It had been a bonfire to remember, complete with drunken screams and voiceless tears; thankfully someone had had the foresight to save some things.
He couldn’t forget them, not after everything.
They were still there, those double eights that were perfect. The stark contrast between them, like that of an old movie, was completely balanced; it always seemed to bring him back to be grounded and not lose is sanity.
Shivers moved across the sensitive nubs called his fingertips, reminding him the void of calm and safe was always there. It was a secret spot, high above cloud nine; no one was ever there, just him. No one had able to mix with the ice that coated upon entry. Even Avery was not hot enough, even though her hair could be fire in itself excluding the flame called her soul; he was alone.
As usual, he was always alone.
The chill spread, making the hole in his self-become more dominant. He would not feel self-pity, but he loathed these moments where despite everything around him, people, animals, heat, he was just a ball of ice that nothing could melt.
And not even classical could solve that.
“Adam”
He was unprepared for the elbow he received to ribs; not to say that it hurt, but it certainly surprised him. It disrupted his personal space bubble, the shreds of balance he was trying to cling on even though they had just exited the car and taken a few steps.
At least now they were in the shade, although it didn’t really matter either way, at least the sun on skin gave another reminder that he was here and in the moment. That there was something other than ice, that numbness that existed effortlessly, without amber dizziness or morphine, to consume him.
Heat was untouchable, just a memory that was quickly turning to dust in the slowly burning bonfire; there were still coals waiting for more fuel.
Another poke to the ribs, they must be meeting someone or she would just leave him be in his swirling comatose state. The sanded handle of the extension of his arm, also known as his cane, turned once over in his palm before he moved it, searching for...
He assumed that if they were meeting someone, that the strangers would be standing fairly closer, even though most people gave him a wide berth because he was obviously helpless.
Ah, there we go.
His wide spread search came to a stop as he met another solid object; he guessed it to be an ankle. Moving around it, he checked for more solid weak spots; with being blind, he had learned some of the body’s weak points, to know where to protect in case of an attack since he was not capable of dishing it out.
One of the persons jumped when he hit them, a light yelp coming from the instance. Most people did that when he attempted to place them, something about being tapped on a vital bone. Without your ankles, walking became very difficult if not impossible; it was only natural to be squeamish. Still didn’t mean it wasn’t amusing; he had to get his fun from somewhere.
“Sorry” He murmured with a smile, trying not to seem like a morbid bastard.
“It’s alright, you just surprised me” It was feminine, but deep; similar to his guardian’s, but with a bit more flare. The first word that came to mind was ‘diva’, but with a sophisticated version. The voice appeared to him in the form of a mix of red, a thousand different shades mixing together to move in time with the words.
He had stopped attempting to form lips to move with the conversation, hair that would bristle in the slight wind, a person to match to the voice. Vocals were distinct for each person, which was how he identified others; trying to create faces was pointless. Even if he had known the person before the incident, all that information had been shoved into a huge trash compactor; faces didn’t really matter all that much.
He did it once in a while, when he was really interested in the person; but usually he just assigned colors. The woman had passion and intensity; he could imagine the voice in a song, so he gave her the color of a rose, a fiery shade with a bit of girliness in there.
Seeing as she, the unnamed mess of fire, was to his far left, he decided to start with her; his hand reached out in an open palmed fashion in the direction the voice had come from.
“Adam Levine, call me Adam” It was easier this way, a single name making him seem more normal, more average in relation to them despite the fact that he was obviously missing a key component. These people he was making acquaintances with were important, that much was certain since Avery was having him meet them. She was a very good detector of importance, because she knew he did not like meeting millions of people. He had become a bit shyer with his loss, which would be expected.
The hand shake was brisk as the soft skinned across his own, her medium length nails scratching themselves across his hand to the point where he knew they existed and that she did not play instruments on a daily basis as he did, if ever.
“Christina, Christina…” The voice replied, which he cut off while humming a familiar tune that he had known of before music had become his center in a universe of chaos.
She smiled; he knew it even though the creases were just a part of darkness, as he reached the chorus of one of her highest hits. He almost wished he could have seen the music video, although Avery had described it to him as dark weirdness, he still wanted to see it dammit!
“Good to know I wasn’t the only one listening to your songs” Another voice chuckled from his right, a mellow contrast to the fire. It wasn’t chill, there was still fire in there, but it was more down to earth than the female. It was lavish, with a hint of funkiness; it was interesting. The man was definitely spice to Christina’s hard sugar, with soul seeping in every word.
The color palate went to a green variety, with a dash of salt and pepper, to embed itself into his memory. It was less controlled than the last stream of color, now it was all over the place as the deep and soulful laugh echoed.
He smiled as he basked in the sweet syrup like symphony, the numbness abating and relinquishing its hold on a few inches of his heart, although he knew the fizzing sparks would soon start to smoke before going out and the frost would come back.
That’s what happened every time, it wasn’t like meeting other music stars like himself was going to be the epic combo breaker to fuck up the six digit or more score he had going on.
“Nice to meet you brother, name’s Cee - Lo Green” The moment he moved his appendage that came equipped with a very useful thumb to meet the greeting, it was captured by a larger hand that Christina’s had been. It was still as soft, but just bigger and squishier. That last word may have been the word way to describe a person’s hand, but he kept it.
He just kept smiling, unsure what to say; good think he didn’t have to know.
“Hey dickweed, why did you skip over me?”
He felt his head snap up and struggle to meet the gaze of the person straight in front of him, even though he knew it was impossible. It seemed impossible to resist the instinct to do so, the urge that he for the most part ignored with everyone else; he knew Avery probably thought he was crazy.
The tone was that of comfort, every part of the statement large and warm, coming to envelope him. It had a hint of teasing mixed in, like they were good friends already despite the fact he had never met…
The honey like sound reached out to him, he barely resisted leaning in. It was deep, subtle, and a bit sensual; although he had a feeling that the words said by the voice were not of that variety at all. Strength was obvious and apparent, making his emotions leave for a moment.
The colors were silent for a moment, only faint buzzing alerting to the fact that they were attempting to discover which mix to apply. It only took a moment before it exploded in his vision in the form of a wisp of blue. It was deep blue, a pure swirling strand moving towards him; like it was going to surround him, slid up his skin. There were only faint hints of a light shade, like that of the sky on a cloudless day, which flowed effortlessly within the darker version.
Rarely was a vocal color one shade of one color, normally it was many different shades, different colors, or both when it embodied a voice. They were never the same, like snowflakes, but sometimes some stuck out more than others.
His tongue stuck to the bottom of his mouth, which was experiencing dryness almost comparable to that of an African summer. His breathing was more rapid ad his heart was slightly sped up and out of its regularly scheduled beats.
Whiskey, wood, and honey invited themselves in, overwhelming and whisking away the smells of smog and burning rubber. It was different, obviously not a mixture or fragrance that one could concoct on purpose, somehow it made it that more endearing in a way.
The thick sweetness could almost be tasted it was so strong, giving his tongue something fluid to once again swim in; he licked his lips out of habit, to give them the same moisture. Even now he knew that something different was afoot, a unscheduled change to his life that would more than likely make it better or fuck it up, he hoped to god it was the second.
With the cane in hand, he tapped at ankle of the newest and most interesting voice.
A light sound was an accomplice to the second tap, one that he slightly raised an eyebrow at; he classified it in the category of ‘amused’ and bet a pretty penny that there was a smirk with it.
“Yep, that’s me” The blue spoke again, with the amusement apparent in it.
“Smartass” His blank expression turned and cracked into a smile; this is the point where he would have made eye contact before rolling his eyes.
Slowly, he tapped his way up the man’s leg, because the fact that he had to look up to be in the direct line of the man’s voice was weird. He was an average guy height wise, if not a little on the tall side, but the guy sounded like he was at least five inches taller than him. That meant the guy was like…
“I’m six five”
…or something like that.
“Damn, you’re huge big guy”
The guy was huge, probably capable of bench pressing his ass in a heartbeat; strangely the information did not scare him, the blue was too soft. Although he might have just finally lost it, he’d have to wear a sign saying to watch out for the crazy blind guy, but he doubted it.
Right beside him was Avery, who poked him slightly with the unspoken comment of ‘No shit’ to reply to his own comment. He swatted her hand, gently, in return for her silent snarkiness.
His cane went back to the ground, abandoning its journey up the side of mount saint huge, right before the blue appeared again to remind him that he was fine. Somehow, it seemed to not have the same effect as the keys did.
“Name’s Blake” Another line of lighter blue joined the dark as the vocals became huskier, an accent more pronounced than before. The amusement had grown just a bit more, probably in time with the smile.
“Adam, but you probably already know that” He winked for effect with his sarcasm, even though he wasn’t even sure he was looking in the right direction.
A large hand closed around his at the same time he exhaled, the feeling raining down on him like a sudden storm that he had no air to scream into. It was warm, like summer rain that was the only thing that mattered in a moment, to surround him. It slithered in small rivers down his arms to his core, the more subtle version of lightning with the same effects.
His eyes flutter for a moment, feeling overwhelmed as frost retreats to leave him feeling overexposed to everything. Numbness is gone; why is a question that is unexplainable and unneeded. The hand tethers him to the ground when he thinks he is going to float away or that his knees will give out.
Warmth, not sparks, awaken the millions of cells making up his outside barrier, his skin sighs in relief simultaneously.
The finger pads of the man are firm like his own, unlike the other two, meaning that he plays an instrument of some kind. Usually he would have known in an instant, but now he’s floating on his back. Driven to sweet chaos, his mind is barely capable of anything and yet chokes out ‘Guitar’ before humming in satisfaction.
Then the feeling decreases, his manners releasing the other man’s hand before he makes a fool of himself, everything called him whimpered although knowing it had to be done. He’s smiling, the faint sliver of teeth showing even without him being aware.
He was almost so out of it that he almost forgot about her, which is never a good idea since she does not like to be left out. “Fellow Coaches, this is Avery, my…”
She steps in, literally, and asserts herself; she always liked to introduce herself “Guardian, helper, nanny, it’s all about the same”
He rolled his eyes; she’s probably doing some stupid hand motion again which he only knew about since he had been hit by one of these hand motions in the not so ancient past. Of course she had laughed her ass off at him instead of helping him from where he had fallen; her advice had been to stay out of her way next time.
He took back control, trying to ignore a fact that was not going away in his mind “She’ll be helping me out, so I don’t run into shit”
The others laughed, the colors mixing into one big hodgepodge that one might see a version of if on drugs, and he just smiled. The blue was still the most prominent in that sultry chuckle that stood out despite the fact that Christina’s was louder.
“Let’s get inside the studio, Daly will want to meet you” The blonde, he just decided that that’s the hair color she would have, she sounded like a blonde, decided before the click of two sets of heels was heard as they began to move.
Avery falls into line with him again, their strides matching almost perfectly from time and practice from it just being the two of them. His cane taps in time, when another set steps to join their wall; he smells the sweetness before anything.
The blue comes to mind without a sound, swirling in his mind along with the fact that the man is walking as close as Avery is, just inside his bubble. Moments ago, he met the man, Blake, who was now at the place as his closest friend.
It didn’t make sense…
Shadows covered him, a chill racing over his skin as they enter the building known as the studio, but he’s still warm with a personal heater in close proximity.
A faint smile comes to his lips as murmurs come from the crew.
“This should be fun”
…it didn’t have to.
XxX
Chapter Two Done!
What did you think?
Still in character?
Author: Me
Rating/Warning: Eh....if you are in this fandom, then it's PG-13, but know that there's Adam and Blake, who love to fucking swear! May increase later.
Words: Around 2, 900
Pairing: Adam/Blake ~of course!
Warnings: Cursing, disability, possible thoughts of suicide, angst, etc.
Notes: This is for a user on here, who's name escapes me, who wanted a disibility! story. This is my crack at the prompt, I hope it works!
AN: This chapter is dedicated to riversavesworld , who very nicely DEMANDED more of Honey Love/This story, so I ended up writing this today. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT~!
ANN: This is all Adam, there will be Blake next chapter !
Summary: Jumping into the unknown was risky, especially when all you knew was the wind racing past your ears. He didn't need it though, his sight; he had Blake.
ENJOY!
XxX
His designer sneakers, with gel insoles since he’d be damned if he had arthritis later on, took more effort to move as the chill that had been around him wavered before vanishing to be replaced by heat. It was vacant of moisture and without the glare blinding him (even further, he grimly chuckled) he knew that he was still in Los Angeles.
Changes in temperature were the easiest way to tell what the hell was going on; the sun taking a sledgehammer to his skin was followed by the echo of the noisy snarl known as traffic, combined they shattered his calm cocoon comprised of blessed air conditioning and swirling piano notes.
Nervousness was not becoming of a rising music star, so to be prepared he required a soak of at least twenty minutes in the least complicated sound he knew, classical. It was his own version of meditation; frankly he thought it put the priests and yoga women to shame. It was smooth and unfazed by vocals or guitar riffs, just the chill of the keys he could picture under his fingers.
They were firm, unwavering, and sleek; he had lost the black supporting them along with every other piece of imagery, only a few pictures existed that had not been burned in the fire he had set after the event. It had been a bonfire to remember, complete with drunken screams and voiceless tears; thankfully someone had had the foresight to save some things.
He couldn’t forget them, not after everything.
They were still there, those double eights that were perfect. The stark contrast between them, like that of an old movie, was completely balanced; it always seemed to bring him back to be grounded and not lose is sanity.
Shivers moved across the sensitive nubs called his fingertips, reminding him the void of calm and safe was always there. It was a secret spot, high above cloud nine; no one was ever there, just him. No one had able to mix with the ice that coated upon entry. Even Avery was not hot enough, even though her hair could be fire in itself excluding the flame called her soul; he was alone.
As usual, he was always alone.
The chill spread, making the hole in his self-become more dominant. He would not feel self-pity, but he loathed these moments where despite everything around him, people, animals, heat, he was just a ball of ice that nothing could melt.
And not even classical could solve that.
“Adam”
He was unprepared for the elbow he received to ribs; not to say that it hurt, but it certainly surprised him. It disrupted his personal space bubble, the shreds of balance he was trying to cling on even though they had just exited the car and taken a few steps.
At least now they were in the shade, although it didn’t really matter either way, at least the sun on skin gave another reminder that he was here and in the moment. That there was something other than ice, that numbness that existed effortlessly, without amber dizziness or morphine, to consume him.
Heat was untouchable, just a memory that was quickly turning to dust in the slowly burning bonfire; there were still coals waiting for more fuel.
Another poke to the ribs, they must be meeting someone or she would just leave him be in his swirling comatose state. The sanded handle of the extension of his arm, also known as his cane, turned once over in his palm before he moved it, searching for...
He assumed that if they were meeting someone, that the strangers would be standing fairly closer, even though most people gave him a wide berth because he was obviously helpless.
Ah, there we go.
His wide spread search came to a stop as he met another solid object; he guessed it to be an ankle. Moving around it, he checked for more solid weak spots; with being blind, he had learned some of the body’s weak points, to know where to protect in case of an attack since he was not capable of dishing it out.
One of the persons jumped when he hit them, a light yelp coming from the instance. Most people did that when he attempted to place them, something about being tapped on a vital bone. Without your ankles, walking became very difficult if not impossible; it was only natural to be squeamish. Still didn’t mean it wasn’t amusing; he had to get his fun from somewhere.
“Sorry” He murmured with a smile, trying not to seem like a morbid bastard.
“It’s alright, you just surprised me” It was feminine, but deep; similar to his guardian’s, but with a bit more flare. The first word that came to mind was ‘diva’, but with a sophisticated version. The voice appeared to him in the form of a mix of red, a thousand different shades mixing together to move in time with the words.
He had stopped attempting to form lips to move with the conversation, hair that would bristle in the slight wind, a person to match to the voice. Vocals were distinct for each person, which was how he identified others; trying to create faces was pointless. Even if he had known the person before the incident, all that information had been shoved into a huge trash compactor; faces didn’t really matter all that much.
He did it once in a while, when he was really interested in the person; but usually he just assigned colors. The woman had passion and intensity; he could imagine the voice in a song, so he gave her the color of a rose, a fiery shade with a bit of girliness in there.
Seeing as she, the unnamed mess of fire, was to his far left, he decided to start with her; his hand reached out in an open palmed fashion in the direction the voice had come from.
“Adam Levine, call me Adam” It was easier this way, a single name making him seem more normal, more average in relation to them despite the fact that he was obviously missing a key component. These people he was making acquaintances with were important, that much was certain since Avery was having him meet them. She was a very good detector of importance, because she knew he did not like meeting millions of people. He had become a bit shyer with his loss, which would be expected.
The hand shake was brisk as the soft skinned across his own, her medium length nails scratching themselves across his hand to the point where he knew they existed and that she did not play instruments on a daily basis as he did, if ever.
“Christina, Christina…” The voice replied, which he cut off while humming a familiar tune that he had known of before music had become his center in a universe of chaos.
She smiled; he knew it even though the creases were just a part of darkness, as he reached the chorus of one of her highest hits. He almost wished he could have seen the music video, although Avery had described it to him as dark weirdness, he still wanted to see it dammit!
“Good to know I wasn’t the only one listening to your songs” Another voice chuckled from his right, a mellow contrast to the fire. It wasn’t chill, there was still fire in there, but it was more down to earth than the female. It was lavish, with a hint of funkiness; it was interesting. The man was definitely spice to Christina’s hard sugar, with soul seeping in every word.
The color palate went to a green variety, with a dash of salt and pepper, to embed itself into his memory. It was less controlled than the last stream of color, now it was all over the place as the deep and soulful laugh echoed.
He smiled as he basked in the sweet syrup like symphony, the numbness abating and relinquishing its hold on a few inches of his heart, although he knew the fizzing sparks would soon start to smoke before going out and the frost would come back.
That’s what happened every time, it wasn’t like meeting other music stars like himself was going to be the epic combo breaker to fuck up the six digit or more score he had going on.
“Nice to meet you brother, name’s Cee - Lo Green” The moment he moved his appendage that came equipped with a very useful thumb to meet the greeting, it was captured by a larger hand that Christina’s had been. It was still as soft, but just bigger and squishier. That last word may have been the word way to describe a person’s hand, but he kept it.
He just kept smiling, unsure what to say; good think he didn’t have to know.
“Hey dickweed, why did you skip over me?”
He felt his head snap up and struggle to meet the gaze of the person straight in front of him, even though he knew it was impossible. It seemed impossible to resist the instinct to do so, the urge that he for the most part ignored with everyone else; he knew Avery probably thought he was crazy.
The tone was that of comfort, every part of the statement large and warm, coming to envelope him. It had a hint of teasing mixed in, like they were good friends already despite the fact he had never met…
The honey like sound reached out to him, he barely resisted leaning in. It was deep, subtle, and a bit sensual; although he had a feeling that the words said by the voice were not of that variety at all. Strength was obvious and apparent, making his emotions leave for a moment.
The colors were silent for a moment, only faint buzzing alerting to the fact that they were attempting to discover which mix to apply. It only took a moment before it exploded in his vision in the form of a wisp of blue. It was deep blue, a pure swirling strand moving towards him; like it was going to surround him, slid up his skin. There were only faint hints of a light shade, like that of the sky on a cloudless day, which flowed effortlessly within the darker version.
Rarely was a vocal color one shade of one color, normally it was many different shades, different colors, or both when it embodied a voice. They were never the same, like snowflakes, but sometimes some stuck out more than others.
His tongue stuck to the bottom of his mouth, which was experiencing dryness almost comparable to that of an African summer. His breathing was more rapid ad his heart was slightly sped up and out of its regularly scheduled beats.
Whiskey, wood, and honey invited themselves in, overwhelming and whisking away the smells of smog and burning rubber. It was different, obviously not a mixture or fragrance that one could concoct on purpose, somehow it made it that more endearing in a way.
The thick sweetness could almost be tasted it was so strong, giving his tongue something fluid to once again swim in; he licked his lips out of habit, to give them the same moisture. Even now he knew that something different was afoot, a unscheduled change to his life that would more than likely make it better or fuck it up, he hoped to god it was the second.
With the cane in hand, he tapped at ankle of the newest and most interesting voice.
A light sound was an accomplice to the second tap, one that he slightly raised an eyebrow at; he classified it in the category of ‘amused’ and bet a pretty penny that there was a smirk with it.
“Yep, that’s me” The blue spoke again, with the amusement apparent in it.
“Smartass” His blank expression turned and cracked into a smile; this is the point where he would have made eye contact before rolling his eyes.
Slowly, he tapped his way up the man’s leg, because the fact that he had to look up to be in the direct line of the man’s voice was weird. He was an average guy height wise, if not a little on the tall side, but the guy sounded like he was at least five inches taller than him. That meant the guy was like…
“I’m six five”
…or something like that.
“Damn, you’re huge big guy”
The guy was huge, probably capable of bench pressing his ass in a heartbeat; strangely the information did not scare him, the blue was too soft. Although he might have just finally lost it, he’d have to wear a sign saying to watch out for the crazy blind guy, but he doubted it.
Right beside him was Avery, who poked him slightly with the unspoken comment of ‘No shit’ to reply to his own comment. He swatted her hand, gently, in return for her silent snarkiness.
His cane went back to the ground, abandoning its journey up the side of mount saint huge, right before the blue appeared again to remind him that he was fine. Somehow, it seemed to not have the same effect as the keys did.
“Name’s Blake” Another line of lighter blue joined the dark as the vocals became huskier, an accent more pronounced than before. The amusement had grown just a bit more, probably in time with the smile.
“Adam, but you probably already know that” He winked for effect with his sarcasm, even though he wasn’t even sure he was looking in the right direction.
A large hand closed around his at the same time he exhaled, the feeling raining down on him like a sudden storm that he had no air to scream into. It was warm, like summer rain that was the only thing that mattered in a moment, to surround him. It slithered in small rivers down his arms to his core, the more subtle version of lightning with the same effects.
His eyes flutter for a moment, feeling overwhelmed as frost retreats to leave him feeling overexposed to everything. Numbness is gone; why is a question that is unexplainable and unneeded. The hand tethers him to the ground when he thinks he is going to float away or that his knees will give out.
Warmth, not sparks, awaken the millions of cells making up his outside barrier, his skin sighs in relief simultaneously.
The finger pads of the man are firm like his own, unlike the other two, meaning that he plays an instrument of some kind. Usually he would have known in an instant, but now he’s floating on his back. Driven to sweet chaos, his mind is barely capable of anything and yet chokes out ‘Guitar’ before humming in satisfaction.
Then the feeling decreases, his manners releasing the other man’s hand before he makes a fool of himself, everything called him whimpered although knowing it had to be done. He’s smiling, the faint sliver of teeth showing even without him being aware.
He was almost so out of it that he almost forgot about her, which is never a good idea since she does not like to be left out. “Fellow Coaches, this is Avery, my…”
She steps in, literally, and asserts herself; she always liked to introduce herself “Guardian, helper, nanny, it’s all about the same”
He rolled his eyes; she’s probably doing some stupid hand motion again which he only knew about since he had been hit by one of these hand motions in the not so ancient past. Of course she had laughed her ass off at him instead of helping him from where he had fallen; her advice had been to stay out of her way next time.
He took back control, trying to ignore a fact that was not going away in his mind “She’ll be helping me out, so I don’t run into shit”
The others laughed, the colors mixing into one big hodgepodge that one might see a version of if on drugs, and he just smiled. The blue was still the most prominent in that sultry chuckle that stood out despite the fact that Christina’s was louder.
“Let’s get inside the studio, Daly will want to meet you” The blonde, he just decided that that’s the hair color she would have, she sounded like a blonde, decided before the click of two sets of heels was heard as they began to move.
Avery falls into line with him again, their strides matching almost perfectly from time and practice from it just being the two of them. His cane taps in time, when another set steps to join their wall; he smells the sweetness before anything.
The blue comes to mind without a sound, swirling in his mind along with the fact that the man is walking as close as Avery is, just inside his bubble. Moments ago, he met the man, Blake, who was now at the place as his closest friend.
It didn’t make sense…
Shadows covered him, a chill racing over his skin as they enter the building known as the studio, but he’s still warm with a personal heater in close proximity.
A faint smile comes to his lips as murmurs come from the crew.
“This should be fun”
…it didn’t have to.
XxX
Chapter Two Done!
What did you think?
Still in character?