( closed )
reed's art studio
Two days, sixteen hours and thirty-seven minutes.
That’s when he’d be back.
Maybe it was unhealthy counting the days, hours, and minutes until Connor’s return––longingly looking at the small clock in the corner of his studio every chance he got––but he couldn’t help it. Since meeting, this was the longest time they’d ever spent apart.
Reed had the entire house to himself for two weeks now and he still had to wait another two days until he could see Connor. Most of the house had been untouched since then, the artist finding solace only in his studio. Near their bedroom with floor to ceiling windows, the space had the best morning and afternoon light in the house. It was a wide open space, filled with canvases, overfilled sketchbooks and more art supplies than Reed knew what to do with.
Having not heard from Connor all day, while not necessarily unusual, was anxiety inducing. he hadn’t even gotten a good morning text yet. It was still early though, noon his time to be precise. Maybe he’d had a late night in the office or had spent the night out with another prospective client. Connor didn’t like early mornings as much as he did after all.
Reed had been working on an art piece since the early morning, trying to distract himself from the loneliness. With his headphones in, Reed swiped at the empty canvas with his paints. A soft, cool mix of blues and blacks filled the space in abstract strokes. It was easy to paint when Connor was gone. His muse flowed so freely from him, each stroke another attempt to quell the quiet loneliness inside of him.
Humming along to his music, Reed hadn’t even noticed when someone entered his studio door.
@ncbulochaotic
