r e s i s t

“I don’t think that’d be such a bad thing,” he laughed and nodded his head for her to take a seat. “Yeah, absolutely. You avoiding the new people?”

          “your funeral,” she shrugged, though the smile on her face betrayed her. robbie took a seat, setting the guitar case on the ground and removing her instrument. “what else is there to do on move in day?” she asked, twisting at the tuning pegs and strumming vaguely. “you?”

“It’s not!” Nate defended with a laugh, putting his hands up innocently before reaching down into the case and taking out the money, “But hey, with the amount I just made, it could be.”

          “you’ve got a point, if you’re going to live off of gumballs,” robbie said with a slight squint for emphasis. “want some company?” she asked, gesturing vaguely with her guitar.

Nate was outside of the apartment complex, sitting on a bench with his guitar in his hands. His fingers moved along the strings and the frets, his voice carrying the lyrics to a melody that he had written both himself. The empty guitar case in front of him was merely for convenience, so he was surprised when someone dropped change into it. He laughed a little, “Oh I’m not..” His voice trailed off, not getting to finish explaining because the stranger had already walked off before he could explain that he wasn’t a street performer. 

robbie smiled as she approached, her own guitar case in hand. her hair was pulled back into a loosely gathered bun, springy coils falling in her face. she brushed a few out of the way and switched her instrument to the other hand, stopping in front of the boy, a teasing grin on her face.

                    “i didn’t know busking was your thing, nate.”

someone: you hate what?