hello again, friend of a friend

As the drum sticks were held out to him, it almost felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He hadn't even touched the pairs he had at home, had simply let someone else box them up with things that now sat forgotten about in his closet. He wanted to protest, wanted to tell Reese no, wanted to walk away from the entire situation, follow after her as she looked around instead but before James could stop himself he reached out, fingers wrapping around the drum sticks. Almost instantly it was like a missing piece of him had been replaced. Without a second thought he took one, tapping it a few times against his thigh like he had done a thousand times over before out of habit.

Giving a shake of his head at her suggestion, knowing that he was being beyond stubborn. Maybe he owed himself this. Maybe after everything he had lost, the pieces of himself that had been ripped away, maybe he owed it to himself to see if he remembered something that he loved. Maybe this would be living instead of just surviving day to day like he had been doing for the last few months. "I hate you." He muttered, though he had a feeling that Reese knew that there was no truth at all behind his words as he drew in a breathe and took a step forward. One step at a time. He could do this, he couldn't let the accident take everything he loved.

Carefully he raised the drum sticks, eyes on the cymbals he had been missing with earlier and brought one down, letting the sound ring out and encase him in something he hadn't felt in quite some time. Licking his lips nervously, James brought up the other drum stick, tapping out a little quick 1-2 beat on the cymbals, barely having to think about what he was doing. It came naturally to him instantly again. But just because he could beat out a pattern didn't mean he remembered anything else so he took a step back, looking over at Reese. "I think that's as good as it gets for me these days." Not having given it a full try, a little beat was nothing, already feeling the itch to get behind the kit but fighting every single urge he had.

It wasn't that Reese was the way she was because she wanted to be a dictator all the time. Honestly, if she cared less about the things and people in her life it might be easier to be a bit more relaxed with them, but that just wasn't her way of doing things. She was being supportive, really, she was. Just in the way that gave a little bit more of a... push. But. That didn't mean she couldn't see the turmoil on his face, and, though she certainly wouldn't admit it, she could relate to the fear of not being good enough, not measuring up. Of thinking if something wasn't exactly the way you wanted it to be, then what was the point of it? A lot of people probably felt that way. The only difference between them and her was she never gave herself a second to hesitate, a moment to breathe. It was always either hit the ground running or risk falling flat on your face, so she only ever hit the ground running. And James would get there, too. Even if it was just for this one thing.

For a split second, she wondered if maybe she was on the wrong track, if he might just quit before they even began. But then, out of the corner of her eye she saw his fingers relax enough to tap the sticks against his leg, almost like a comfort exercise, and she knew they were in business. "No you don't," she retorted, only giving him a look that was similar to the one she shared with her sibling when they were being equally dramatic. "Look, just humor me. If you get stuck, I'm right here."

He might've been nervous, but there was no denying the ease with which his hands seemed to hold those sticks, the way his shoulders seemed to tense, and then slowly dip into relief. Music really did feel like coming home. Every time. She knew it, everyone with the same love for it and the same drive with songs constantly playing background music in their minds knew it. And he knew it, too, she could see it written all over his face. Even if he was obviously scared the rug might get pulled out from under him. "Are you kidding! I can tell you're just dying to keep fiddling over there. Wait one second." Clearly, there was still some hangups keeping him from letting himself just feel it, almost like he was afraid to let go too much. Normally, Reese could relate to that feeling, as the state of being firmly in control was almost a sort of homeostasis for her, but music was also the one place that she never seemed to think about that. Or really, think much, at all.

By far, one of the hardest things since his return home for James, was reconnecting with his friends. A part of him had been afraid that they wouldn't want anything to do with him, that he would be a burden of some sort to them now, but slowly as the weeks turned to months, he had started to reach out more and more. And when it came to Reese, well, James would be forever thankful for the friendship that the two of them had. Knowing that he could count on her and that when he might need a push to do something, she was there for it too.

Which is partly how the two of them found them selves at a music store. The fact that Reese understood his love of music and instruments- even if James had very much been afraid of getting behind a drum kit since his injury, was something he adored about their friendship.

While he had forgotten so much, there was something about the possibility of not remembering how to play the drums that made his stomach clench. Music had helped him through so much, had gotten him through some dark moments in his life, and he breathed for the drums. And every time he thought about not remembering them, it unsettled him. So he stayed in the dark, refusing to even think about getting back behind them. Until now.

The drum set had caught his eye the moment they had walked in. Much fancier than the old one he had sold when he was in the army. Everything about it was perfect. So much so, that he couldn't help but drift away from Reese mid conversation to walk over to it. Still hesitating about sitting on the sleek stool. Instead James let his fingers brush over the cymbals, feeling the coolness beneath his fingers. There was no doubt a longing there, to get back behind them, to see if he had truly forgotten something he had loved so much. All he had to do was grab some drum sticks, take a seat behind the kit- James gave a shake of his head before he turned to face Reese.

"Sorry- what were you saying?" Realizing he had completely zoned out at the conversation they had been in the middle of having.

There were few things in the world Reese loved more than a problem to solve or a project to work through. Helping James reacquaint himself with music seemed like the perfect way to get him back to some sense of normalcy, but more importantly, she knew firsthand you didn't get into the classics the way he did without a real love for it. And anyone who loved music the way both of them did and didn't indulge in it fully, was only hurting themselves. Music was power. Music was healing. And even more importantly, it didn't require coherent thought or piecing a bunch of connecting parts together. It was all about feeling and flow, really. Even the greatest of the greats knew that.

Almost as if she could read his mind, she took one look at him eyeing the drum set by the corner and tilted her head. "It's okay, I promise they won't bite. Not unless you want them to." And, she assumed maybe he'd move closer, maybe even assume his spot in the stool, but more moments passed, and they were still exactly where they began, even as he traced the cymbals with his fingers longingly. Reese cleared her throat. "...So you gonna test them out, or what?"

The sand was cool beneath Savannah’s palms as she leaned back, letting the night breeze lift a few strands of her hair. Her car was parked a few feet away, headlights off, the faint ticking of the cooling engine the only reminder they hadn’t been here long. They always ended up in places like this: quiet corners, half-lit fields, anywhere the rest of the world seemed to forget about.

“Good view.” The blonde murmured, nodding up at the sky. The stars weren’t unusually bright, but something about the space between them felt soothing. “Kinda makes everything feel… slower.”

She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to. Reese knew her well enough to read between the lines, and she hoped the other wouldn’t tonight. Or maybe she hoped Reese would. She wasn’t sure.

A firefly drifted near them, glowing once before disappearing again. Savannah followed it with her eyes, then glanced toward Reese; quickly, casually, like she was checking the time.

“You ever notice,” She started, picking at a shell wedged in the sand, “how it’s easier to breathe out here?” A small shrug. “With no noise. No plans. Just… this.” Us. She wanted to say it with her full chest, but couldn't find the words.

Her voice was light, almost airy, but her pulse tapped at her throat. She didn’t turn toward the other again, but she could feel Reese's presence: steady, familiar, a comfort she pretended she didn’t lean into as much as she did.

“I’m glad you’re here." She added, quieter, as if it were just another observation. Like the stars. Like the breeze. Like something she wasn’t supposed to examine too closely.

She lay back on the sand, hands folded on her stomach, looking up. “You make the quiet feel... different." She said with a small smile that she wasn't sure the other could see.

Reese often read of people describing silence as deafening: thick and heavy like a blanket of snow. And maybe it would've felt that way, with anyone else. It sure felt that way when she was all alone with her thoughts, which was why she'd always turned to music in the first place. But one thing about Blue, was — the way she saw the world in lyrics, the way she always seemed to echo traces in all of her favorite songs . . . Savannah Blue McAllister was music given human form. So with the two of them always decorating shadows together, she never seemed to mind the quiet with her best friend by her side too much.

"It really is." Her gaze drifted over to her friend, preferring to watch the stars reflect in her eyes than to watch them with her own, not because it wasn't a beautiful scene, but because it almost felt like she could feel things through Savannah more somehow. Like the emotional wall she put up around everything and everyone, even herself, melted and she was left with the warmth of the girl across from her living life at full throttle, in full color. It was one of the things Reese admired most about her, and also one of the things she wished she could've emulated.

Only when Blue had followed the flight of the firefly over to herself had she realized she'd been staring almost a little too obviously, quickly breaking her gaze and trying to cover it with a casual sigh, nodding gently. "All the time." It almost pained her to hear the softness in the blonde's voice, so sweet and sincere, floating through the air the way Savannah floated rhythmically through life. And, the way she floated through her mind, all the time. While neither of them had turned to look back at each other again, Reese still took a side-step closer, wanting to be a bit nearer even with the sky still holding their gaze.

She never did stuff like this. Even as a kid, she'd always had her nose buried too deep in books to appreciate things like stars. Fireflies and the breath of night air were only things she contemplated when Savannah made her feel like it was okay to relax in the in-betweens. The quiet between the loud, the moment of faded silence between songs, the space in the night between daylight. Damn. Even when she'd said that, it still didn't even feel quite real. It always felt like the in between with Sav was where Reese found herself as someone else, but really, if she'd been thinking about it more honestly, it was probably the one and only place she was really, truly, fully and completely, herself. And it was the only person she wanted to be right now.

she has taken more days to work from home since returning to work from her baby leave , and this is one of them . even though she can afford the childcare , her daughter brings her joy . so here they are , hidden away in a corner of one of her favourite cafés . the place isn't crowded , so she arches an eyebrow when a man asks to sit with her . saying something about her being cute and seeming nice . because the lady with the baby who keeps glaring at people who bother her is just so welcoming . the blonde shakes her head . ❛ we don't share . ❜ she replies . certainly not to be hit on .