FIC: "No longer Autumn, not quite Winter"
We sat on opposite benches, backs pressed against one another, as we took a moment out of our lives to relax for a change. The air was cold, our breaths visible as we both blew little streams from between our lips, amusement rising as we chuckled and grinned, tilting our heads back as they gently collided with one another, our expressions not visible to the other, but easy to guess. We were both smiling, eyes filled with that light of childish excitement, as the simplest things were what often made our days feel most worth it.
With living such a life-being fairly well known rock stars-moments like this were rare to indulge on. Often it was a routine of home-studio-home. Our lives simply revolved around our music, spending the day writing out the tabs, adding lyrics, combining everything together, and practicing. Sure, in between we had moments to have a chat or a cigarette or a quick run to grab a coffee, but mostly, it was just that. When we weren’t rehearsing, we were recording. When we weren’t recording, we were doing interviews, photo shoots, or meetings. Often we traded our comfortable beds at home for tiny bunks in the back of a tour bus. Traveling from city to city, facing troubles, annoyances and aggravation, we fought past it all to perform, and to give our hearts to our fans, who return the favor with giving us their all. Sometimes they would give us more than their all, often leading into trouble.
I can’t really complain about it though. This was, after all, the life I had chosen to partake in. This was the life that all of us had chosen to devote ourselves to. I hold no regrets to any of it; not once did I ever look back in time and wish I had chosen another path towards my future. Regardless of the troubles I face, where I would often sit down and have a cry, or grab an item and throw into the wall, I always had an arm around me, or a helping hand to help pick up the broken pieces. There was always a finger to catch my tears, and always someone to wrap a band aid around my finger. I was never really alone. We were always together; we were a family.
In between it all, we had our moments of peace too, a reflection I thought of as I sobered up my laughter and closed my eyes. I breathed a sigh, a shiver running down my spine as the chilly November’s breeze rushed past me. Though it was still limited, I realized with a slightly solemn feeling. There was a lot I could do, but there were also things I couldn’t do, either. Right before me, for example, I watched as a couple huddled themselves closer to each other, arms encircled around one another. I watched with a faint smile as the man pressed a small kiss to his girlfriend, her already glowing cheeks burning brighter as she turned her head and leaned in to properly return the kiss. I glanced away, shifting as I lifted a leg up to press the sole of my boot against the edge of the bench.
Most of the leaves by now had already fallen, a myriad of reds, browns, and yellows littered the normally green grass. It was almost depressing to watch, as they would soon wither and die, never to be seen again until spring’s return next year. Though it’s funny how I think of spring when winter’s not yet begun. It may have felt like winter, but it wasn’t quite it yet. I really look forward to it-winter, that is.
I never was a really open man. I often kept my thoughts and my feelings to myself, though there were times where I truly wished I could express them openly to the world. Like the couple across the leaf-covered path, I wish I could easily do that without a suppressing fear within my heart. Not only was I often afraid of my own feelings being trampled on, but I never wanted to give anyone the wrong idea of myself. Because of my status in the music world too, any little whisper could get out, and it was an attention I refused to make public. I wanted me-I wanted us to be known as the band we were together, and not of anything else. I made sure that the little privacy we had was kept that way; we didn’t want for the lives outside our music to intermingle with gossip and whispers. There was always a little birdie perched on top of a branch, watching and recording. And all I would willingly give it is a breath of smoke as I lit up a cigarette and blew the result of a long drag in its direction.
Sometimes I wondered what questions existed in the world about me. I even wondered what the silent man behind me thought of me. Curiosity was such a double-bladed sword; you wanted to hear about things, and though sometimes your curiosity would be satisfied, there was often a chance that it wasn’t something that you wanted to hear.
I smiled to myself a little, crossing that leg that was against the bench over the other leg. I shook it idly while tapping the edge of my cigarette before bringing it between my lips. I tilted my head a little, wondering what had captivated my silent partner for so long, as eventually I shifted, breaking our opposite seating arrangements as I rose to my knees, cigarette still in my mouth as I turned around and idly threw my arms around the blonde’s neck, hooking my hands together at his chest as I rested my chin on his shoulder. I glanced over at him, before training my eyes towards where his eyes were looking towards. Straight ahead I see squirrels gathering nuts, one in particular sneaking off in order to have himself one without being caught. While blowing a stream of smoke away from my partner, I smiled a bit more, unable to help laughing at the sight.
Reita soon brought his hand over to cover my own, his long fingers curling themselves over both intertwined fingers before he gave them a squeeze. He snorted at the sight, before eventually turning his head so he could look at me. I found myself with my breath in my throat, as I almost often did whenever he did that. I would be lost in his eyes, and usually he would catch me by surprise as he took advantage and kissed my lips. And once again he did so, as he eased my cigarette from my lips to touch them with his own. It was brief and gentle, warm compared to the chill around us, before gradually we both drew back. He then placed the cigarette back between my lips, and gave me a little smile.
“That squirrel is somewhat like us, huh?” He questioned quietly, gesturing to the little animal as he had triumphantly consumed his nut before he went back to working on gathering some more in preparation of the winter. “Quickly having a taste without getting caught, it’s something we always have to do ourselves.”
I breathed a sigh and nodded, eventually bringing my hand to pull my nearly spent cigarette from my lips after a final drag. With a blow of the smoke, I soon crushed the butt of it against the bench and discarded it, before returning that hand back to where it was, to where it truly belonged.
“Are you envious?” I asked after a long moment of silence, “of those who can openly express themselves in a way that we cannot?” I paused and slumped against the bassist, before I murmured quietly, “I know that I sure am.”
“A little,” he replied simply, and though normally I was satisfied with just that alone, I expected more, shifting closer as I tried to get a good glimpse of his face. He looked thoughtful, and I knew he was going to say something else. He blinked as he noticed me studying him, before he gave a smile-much bigger than the one he gave me earlier. “-but, despite it all, it makes our moments together that much more special. Despite how rarely we get to spend time together, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. And…” He paused briefly, before he pressed a hand to my cheek, which brought my face to glow a little, “…I wouldn’t trade you for the world either.”
I wouldn’t trade this life-or him-for anything in the world, either.
It was the simplest things that made these days most worth it.
With living such a life-being fairly well known rock stars-moments like this were rare to indulge on. Often it was a routine of home-studio-home. Our lives simply revolved around our music, spending the day writing out the tabs, adding lyrics, combining everything together, and practicing. Sure, in between we had moments to have a chat or a cigarette or a quick run to grab a coffee, but mostly, it was just that. When we weren’t rehearsing, we were recording. When we weren’t recording, we were doing interviews, photo shoots, or meetings. Often we traded our comfortable beds at home for tiny bunks in the back of a tour bus. Traveling from city to city, facing troubles, annoyances and aggravation, we fought past it all to perform, and to give our hearts to our fans, who return the favor with giving us their all. Sometimes they would give us more than their all, often leading into trouble.
I can’t really complain about it though. This was, after all, the life I had chosen to partake in. This was the life that all of us had chosen to devote ourselves to. I hold no regrets to any of it; not once did I ever look back in time and wish I had chosen another path towards my future. Regardless of the troubles I face, where I would often sit down and have a cry, or grab an item and throw into the wall, I always had an arm around me, or a helping hand to help pick up the broken pieces. There was always a finger to catch my tears, and always someone to wrap a band aid around my finger. I was never really alone. We were always together; we were a family.
In between it all, we had our moments of peace too, a reflection I thought of as I sobered up my laughter and closed my eyes. I breathed a sigh, a shiver running down my spine as the chilly November’s breeze rushed past me. Though it was still limited, I realized with a slightly solemn feeling. There was a lot I could do, but there were also things I couldn’t do, either. Right before me, for example, I watched as a couple huddled themselves closer to each other, arms encircled around one another. I watched with a faint smile as the man pressed a small kiss to his girlfriend, her already glowing cheeks burning brighter as she turned her head and leaned in to properly return the kiss. I glanced away, shifting as I lifted a leg up to press the sole of my boot against the edge of the bench.
Most of the leaves by now had already fallen, a myriad of reds, browns, and yellows littered the normally green grass. It was almost depressing to watch, as they would soon wither and die, never to be seen again until spring’s return next year. Though it’s funny how I think of spring when winter’s not yet begun. It may have felt like winter, but it wasn’t quite it yet. I really look forward to it-winter, that is.
I never was a really open man. I often kept my thoughts and my feelings to myself, though there were times where I truly wished I could express them openly to the world. Like the couple across the leaf-covered path, I wish I could easily do that without a suppressing fear within my heart. Not only was I often afraid of my own feelings being trampled on, but I never wanted to give anyone the wrong idea of myself. Because of my status in the music world too, any little whisper could get out, and it was an attention I refused to make public. I wanted me-I wanted us to be known as the band we were together, and not of anything else. I made sure that the little privacy we had was kept that way; we didn’t want for the lives outside our music to intermingle with gossip and whispers. There was always a little birdie perched on top of a branch, watching and recording. And all I would willingly give it is a breath of smoke as I lit up a cigarette and blew the result of a long drag in its direction.
Sometimes I wondered what questions existed in the world about me. I even wondered what the silent man behind me thought of me. Curiosity was such a double-bladed sword; you wanted to hear about things, and though sometimes your curiosity would be satisfied, there was often a chance that it wasn’t something that you wanted to hear.
I smiled to myself a little, crossing that leg that was against the bench over the other leg. I shook it idly while tapping the edge of my cigarette before bringing it between my lips. I tilted my head a little, wondering what had captivated my silent partner for so long, as eventually I shifted, breaking our opposite seating arrangements as I rose to my knees, cigarette still in my mouth as I turned around and idly threw my arms around the blonde’s neck, hooking my hands together at his chest as I rested my chin on his shoulder. I glanced over at him, before training my eyes towards where his eyes were looking towards. Straight ahead I see squirrels gathering nuts, one in particular sneaking off in order to have himself one without being caught. While blowing a stream of smoke away from my partner, I smiled a bit more, unable to help laughing at the sight.
Reita soon brought his hand over to cover my own, his long fingers curling themselves over both intertwined fingers before he gave them a squeeze. He snorted at the sight, before eventually turning his head so he could look at me. I found myself with my breath in my throat, as I almost often did whenever he did that. I would be lost in his eyes, and usually he would catch me by surprise as he took advantage and kissed my lips. And once again he did so, as he eased my cigarette from my lips to touch them with his own. It was brief and gentle, warm compared to the chill around us, before gradually we both drew back. He then placed the cigarette back between my lips, and gave me a little smile.
“That squirrel is somewhat like us, huh?” He questioned quietly, gesturing to the little animal as he had triumphantly consumed his nut before he went back to working on gathering some more in preparation of the winter. “Quickly having a taste without getting caught, it’s something we always have to do ourselves.”
I breathed a sigh and nodded, eventually bringing my hand to pull my nearly spent cigarette from my lips after a final drag. With a blow of the smoke, I soon crushed the butt of it against the bench and discarded it, before returning that hand back to where it was, to where it truly belonged.
“Are you envious?” I asked after a long moment of silence, “of those who can openly express themselves in a way that we cannot?” I paused and slumped against the bassist, before I murmured quietly, “I know that I sure am.”
“A little,” he replied simply, and though normally I was satisfied with just that alone, I expected more, shifting closer as I tried to get a good glimpse of his face. He looked thoughtful, and I knew he was going to say something else. He blinked as he noticed me studying him, before he gave a smile-much bigger than the one he gave me earlier. “-but, despite it all, it makes our moments together that much more special. Despite how rarely we get to spend time together, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. And…” He paused briefly, before he pressed a hand to my cheek, which brought my face to glow a little, “…I wouldn’t trade you for the world either.”
I wouldn’t trade this life-or him-for anything in the world, either.
It was the simplest things that made these days most worth it.