The last strands (#Tronnor)

Chapter 13: The friends

Taking over this town, they should worry…

But these problems aside I think I taught you well…

That we won’t run, that we won’t run, that we won’t run…

Remember last time you didn’t care about anything? Seriously nothing at all? That one day in which all your chores were done, you had no plans for the evening and everyone had decided to buzz off into their own business. It probably sounds familiar; everyone needs one of those days once in a while.

Today, Connor’s ears were glued to the music like they never had before.

He danced barefoot in his living room, broom in hand, without a care in the world, and boy did her really not care.

And in the winter night sky ships are sailing…

Looking down on these bright city lights…

And they won’t wait, and they won’t wait, and they won’t wait…

We’re here to stay, we’re here to stay, we’re here to stay…

For once, he hadn’t done his morning laundry on time, and it was about to be noon and he still was in his pajamas. He hadn’t showered and barely considered doing his hair before eventually deciding to let it be for the day, resulting in the lack of the signature “swoosh” that he would usually style, instead replaced by his natural bangs of brunette color down on his forehead. He had started playing the album Troye had given to him when he decided to pass a broom on his living room, resulting in the private dance off he was enjoying on his own. He was smiling like an idiot, and didn’t even mind the people watching from outside.

Howling ghosts they reappear, in mountains that are stacked with fear…

-“… But you’re my king and I’m your lion heart!”

His feet followed the beat of the music, and now his voice echoed the words with ease.

-“… A lion heart!”

Yes, that morning, Connor was happy, and if he sat down and thought about it for hours, he wouldn’t have been able to figure out why. Even though we both now that his happiness had a first and last name.

Connor imagined himself dancing and singing to the music accompanied by someone dear to him, with blue eyes deeper than the sea and more captivating than the sky. And together they rejoiced in a plain of his dreams where nobody could listen or care or judge. It was perfectly impossible, and he loved it.

At the time that Connor was reaching the end of the second verse, however, the familiar tone of his doorbell rang, followed by three sharp knocks on his front door. Shocked, he proceeded to lower the volume to his stereo and then put on a pair of sweatpants from his bedroom. He might be completely unpresentable in every way, but at least he had decency.

-“Coming! Coming! Geez…”

Connor headed towards his door and opened it up, not knowing who would randomly appear at his door unannounced (despite that being a very popular event as of late), when he found himself with the way too familiar image of a wide smiled Ricky.

-“Ricky!?”—Connor asked, suddenly red from embarrassment—“What are you doing here!?”

-“Good morning to you too, Con da Bon!”

Ricky strolled into Connor’s house, leaving the latter frustrated and confused.

-“… You may come in?”

-“Well thanks! It’s kind of chilly for LA outside; I heard there’s bound to be a rainstorm through the next couple of days… anyway I love the place! Can’t believe I hadn’t come here yet…”