For Oscar
Robbie had found himself constantly distracted.
It was frustrating, since he had quite a lot of work to do with the gallery. Freddie was almost never home, which Robbie didn't mind since the young man was... well... young. He remembered his own youth, when all that mattered was the fun he could have. Robbie didn't begrudge Freddie his freedom.
Besides, the artificial interest Freddie would summon up for Robbie grated on Robbie's nerves.
Every time Robbie turned a corner, he wondered if he would happen upon that foggy, eerily quiet version of Tite Street from a past he'd never been able to escape. Tonight was no different.
As he left the gallery, with so little work completed, he lit a cigarette and leaned against the railings of the stairs that led away from the building. He inhaled deeply and looked about at the still, quiet early Autumn night. Already winter's chill could be felt, and Robbie smiled to himself before beginning the walk home.
He was lost in his thoughts, which often returned to Oscar as of late, as he walked and smoked. It wasn't until there was absolute silence around him that he woke from his reverie and saw he was on the quiet, deserted Tite Street he'd visited by happenstance once before. He draws once more on his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and crushing it under his shoe and heads towards Oscar's townhouse, grinning boyishly and hoping the poet found his way here as well.
It was frustrating, since he had quite a lot of work to do with the gallery. Freddie was almost never home, which Robbie didn't mind since the young man was... well... young. He remembered his own youth, when all that mattered was the fun he could have. Robbie didn't begrudge Freddie his freedom.
Besides, the artificial interest Freddie would summon up for Robbie grated on Robbie's nerves.
Every time Robbie turned a corner, he wondered if he would happen upon that foggy, eerily quiet version of Tite Street from a past he'd never been able to escape. Tonight was no different.
As he left the gallery, with so little work completed, he lit a cigarette and leaned against the railings of the stairs that led away from the building. He inhaled deeply and looked about at the still, quiet early Autumn night. Already winter's chill could be felt, and Robbie smiled to himself before beginning the walk home.
He was lost in his thoughts, which often returned to Oscar as of late, as he walked and smoked. It wasn't until there was absolute silence around him that he woke from his reverie and saw he was on the quiet, deserted Tite Street he'd visited by happenstance once before. He draws once more on his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and crushing it under his shoe and heads towards Oscar's townhouse, grinning boyishly and hoping the poet found his way here as well.