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After working until five and then coming home and cleaning the house, making food and accidentally falling asleep on the sofa whilst watching a movie, it was now almost midnight - 11:48 to be exact.
This was a regular routine and usually fine if she didn't want to call Elijah that day. Only because it was his first show with the Arctic Monkeys and she wanted to congratulate him. She felt awful for getting distracted with chores and then having an unplanned nap. Even if she couldn't call him, she assumed he'd be asleep or celebrating, she still wanted to pass on the message so she sent him a text. 'Hope the first show went well, I'm sure it was great, the Monkeys and you . . . mainly the Arctic Monkeys :) I was meant to call but lost track of time, sorry :/'
She then began scrolling on her phone, knowing that she'd be up most of the night since she had just slept for four hours. Naps were amazing, she used to always take one after a particularly dull day of school, except for the fact that they ruined her sleep schedule. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened youtube typing in Inhaler.
Half an hour of entertainment flew by, watching their music videos and interviews. Clicking on various videos she came across and going on an unintentional deep dive. She realised it may be slightly weird - lying on the sofa, blanket still over her (which she was sure was placed on top of her by Maeve since it wasn't there before) whilst watching videos of people she knew. It felt fun being able to stare at Elijah without being caught. Free reign of analysing his face. The way he sang, his movements. He was a lot more comfortable - she hated how good he looked and also loved it. The way his eyebrows would knit together and he'd close his eyes briefly when concentrating.
Then the camera would pan down to his hands strumming at strings - they knew what they were doing, she was sure of it. Rings on fingers as he played the guitar pausing to bring a hand up to the microphone whilst singing. It was truly mesmerising. How he'd occasionally bend his knee in time with the music, tapping his foot in time to keep rhythm or nodding his head along to the beat during an instrumental. He looked like he belonged on a stage - that he was comfortable performing (he always had been). She hated when he'd make eye contact with the camera but also enjoyed the feeling of it, getting butterflies every time without fail.
It was fun trying to figure out which songs were about her, he said 'most' she thought that it was an exaggeration. If she had to guess she'd say half, at the most. Maybe slightly more if she was being generous. She wondered if they reminded him of her, if he thought about her when he sang them or if they were just songs to him now. Lyrics without meaning. Imagining that she was on his mind, whilst he had a concentrated expression on his face, was something that she may have enjoyed a little too much.
