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One sudden horrific moment shifts the entire trajectory of Atlas and Errol's lives, handicapping both young men in ways they could never have expected. A sculptor without his sight, and a piani...
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Errol stayed much longer than I expected. I couldn't really map how I felt about it honestly.
He still got on my nerves with some of the things he'd say, but then again, getting to speak about Lia made those memories feel more real again. More tangible. Like I could finally grasp a bit of my past.
I felt for Errol, even though I didn't really want to. My life was just so much easier a few days ago, before I knew what I know now about everything. The tight feeling in my chest was familiar and sickening all in one go... it was me starting to care again.
Not saying I didn't care about Lia's son and her accident, but the healthy distance I thought I had put between her life and my own, had been closed within seconds.
There was hesitation with every question Errol asked. He also took long pauses before asking another, as if at any moment I'd just change my mind about sharing memories.
I wish I understood more about his relationship with Lia, so I could really convince him that his mother loved him to bits. That she didn't have a bone in her body that could hold any resentment...
But as I thought about that, I thought about us. Mine and Lia's friendship.
The way I left things.
I could only hope that I had known that miraculous women as well as I thought, because I couldn't stomach the thought of her resenting me in her last moments.
It made me physically sick to my stomach.
"Can- Can I ask you a question?" Errol asked, causing my hands to slow their work a moment.
"Just ask the question," I sort of snapped, startling even myself at how short I'd been. The room grew incredibly quiet, in a way that amplified that uncomfortable silence a trillion fold. "I mean- you're talking to me like you're walking on eggshells. I've already taken on the commission and I plan on finishing it regardless, so don't think you'll say something that can change my mind so easily," I tried to explain.
This had to have been the first time I ever told someone to be a bit more "rude" to me. The person asking these questions was timid and uncertain, nothing like the arrogant bastard who first waltzed in here last week.
At first I thought I wanted the timidness, but after a while, I couldn't stand the tone in his voice. He was the one who lost a mother, and yet he was almost trying to... comfort me?
"However irritating you've been previously, at least you were being honest," I added, turning my head in the direction I could hear his voice from. He had taken the seat in front of me, but only slightly to my left.
The sound of his body shifting echoed through the quiet studio. That wooden chair he sat in was old, and released suspecting cracks as Errol shifted his weight around in it.
