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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 22:19:10 GMT -5
Dare paused, staring at the guitar, then pushed to his feet and crossed the room toward it. If it doesn't then you never have to play again. If. He stopped, hesitated before bending to pick it up, closing his eyes briefly at the feel of it. He turned wordlessly and brought it back to Michael, sat indian-style and adjusted it in his hands. His fingers found their places, and though the calluses had begun to fade over the past month, he plucked at the strings, readying himself before slipping into a slow melody. He hadn't been playing guitar as long as he'd been drawing, and his lashes lowered as he watched his hands.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 22:23:44 GMT -5
Michael sat silently, watching Dare and silently praying that it worked. A soft smile came over his lips as he watched and listened to Dare's playing. A silent well? came from his features, but he refused to give it voice, knowing that it could knock Dare out of any peace he was finding. He wasn't willing to chance it.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 22:29:16 GMT -5
"Don't even say it," Dare said, the tone of his voice spoiled by the fact that he was still playing, brows knit against simultaneous pain and pleasure. One month, and it felt like longer. He'd already broken his word, and he couldn't regret it. Dare's fingers moved, drawing an almost plaintive song laced in hope from the strings.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 22:34:25 GMT -5
Michael grinned, he couldn't help it. "I wasn't saying anything," he said. Just that reaction was enough, he settled in just a little, enjoying the sounds coming from the guitar. It had never really been an instrument he heard often, except for on the radio in his room, and so his eyes watched Dare's fingers in amazement.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 22:39:48 GMT -5
Dare let out a sigh. "Any requests?" he asked dryly, his lips curving into a half smile despite his best intentions. It wasn't supposed to work, but God, he'd missed it. Missed having another creative outlet, missed having music, making music. Dare switched songs mid-melody, moving from playing into an actual song, and considering--considering--singing.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 22:46:06 GMT -5
"If I think of one I'll let you know," Michael said, repressing a light laugh. He let the grin stay on his lips, though, unable to keep it away. He could see how much Dare loved playing, and he couldn't imagine refusing to play, even if there were bad memories attached to it. "You're good."
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 22:55:06 GMT -5
"What can I say, I'm a creative genius," Dare said, more concerned with balancing the wall of emotions hovering over him than properly deflecting the compliment. He finished the song he'd started before it got to be too much and his fingers stopped. "That's enough for now," he said, releasing a long breath of relief. Dare looked up at Michael, his lips curving into their usual half smile. "Thank you," he said.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 4, 2008 23:00:16 GMT -5
Michael nodded, "Any time." His eyes sparkled, but he looked away after a minute, on the edge of being uncomfortable. He was glad that he had been able to help Dare, even if it was something as simple as getting him to play the guitar again. He doubted that it was simple in Dare's mind, but to someone else it would seem that way. He wanted to ask what Dare had been drawing, but was afraid that it would put him back in his previous mood, so Michael sat, silent for the moment.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 5, 2008 9:26:01 GMT -5
Dare stood and brought the guitar back to its corner, where it sat innocently against the wall. He couldn't believe it had only been a month, or maybe that it had been a month already. Time was flying, and yet it seemed like a year had passed in that first week alone. He turned away from the guitar, back to his drawing, and crouched down to look at it again. He examined the eyes, the motion in the hair, the near-dry pools of ink in the background. Then he looked back over his shoulder at Michael. "Do you want to see?" To Michael it would just be a picture. There was no harm, right?
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 5, 2008 9:32:50 GMT -5
Michael's eyes followed Dare, "If it's alright," he said, not wanting to make him show it. But he was curious, wondering if Dare was as good with ink as he was with pastels. Of course he would be as good, art was Dare's passion, there was no way he could be so very good with one medium and be bad at another.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 5, 2008 9:38:23 GMT -5
"Yeah, it's alright. I offered, right?" Dare picked up his notebook, angling it just a bit to encourage the ink to move, then crossed the room to resume his seat. "It's nothing like the other one," he said, putting the disclaimer out there before turning the picture so that Michael could see it.  |
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 5, 2008 9:44:48 GMT -5
Michael didn't reach out to take the book from Dare, not wanting to take the chance of the ink still being wet and messing it up. "I like it," he said, looking it over slowly, wondering what had made Dare draw it. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, but he wouldn't ask, wouldn't bring it up, if Dare saw fit, he would tell.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 5, 2008 9:53:53 GMT -5
"Thanks," Dare said, shifting to set the sketchbook open on the floor beside him. "Sometimes it's better to just draw something you weren't thinking about, you know?" He'd been thinking about Michael, hadn't he? Dare turned to look at him, somewhat curiously now that the tension had waned. He wondered what Michael saw when he looked at the picture, wondered why of all things, he'd shifted away from one issue and toward another.
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Post by Michael Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 5, 2008 10:00:38 GMT -5
Michael nodded, "Yeah," he agreed softly, still looking at the drawing. "I have a habit of drawing things to death, though. Whatever's bothering me." Just like he had sketchbooks full of Dru and Anna, and even a few pages full of the memory of Dare's face. He drew them until he was sick and tired of it, or until it was worked out, whichever came first.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Jun 5, 2008 10:05:24 GMT -5
"Sometimes I do that," Dare said. "I'm more likely to work a picture into dust than draw it more than once, though. Or I'll go and try to distract myself with something just as bad." He looked away from Michael at that small confession. It was too close to saying that his latest drawing was an issue, instead of a simple picture of a wolf.
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