Take to the Skies

Chapter Eighteen

"Your room is so cool," Tucker said, the vibrato from his chest ringing in my ear. We had moved from standing to lying on my bed, my head on his chest. I chuckled slightly, humming in disagreement.

"I wouldn't use the word 'cool', but thank you," I murmured.

"You have so many books, have you read all of them?" he continued, gesturing to the two six foot shelves filled with books.

My head moved in a nod, "Yeah, for the most part."

"And your music collection," Tucker continued, a touch of awe in his voice. I turned my head up to catch a glance of his face, which was scanning the corner where I had a record player and chess board.

"It's so big. How many records do you have?" He asked.

I shrugged, "I don't actually know. I just get a couple every so often."

"Even if you don't listen to the band?"

"Especially then," I nodded with a smile, "I love finding new music."

"But what if it's not good?"

My shoulders shrugged, "All music is good," I said solemnly, "it just might not be music for me."

He paused for a moment, before tilting his head to look down at me, "Really? You think all music is good?"

I paused for a moment, thinking. "I think it's very hard to make bad music when you put real effort into it," I said finally. "Music is not an easy thing to do, so anyone that makes a song beginning to end has to like it to some degree themselves. So, if it's good to them, it's probably good to someone else."

A smile perked up on Tucker's lips and he went to rest his head on mine again. "I've never thought of it that way," he said.

I hummed in response and we went back to enjoying the silence before he spoke up again.

"What's your favorite?"

"Huh?" I asked, eliciting a laugh from Tucker.

"What?" I asked, sitting up on an elbow.

"Your accent came out," he explained, "It's adorable."

"Oh, shut up," I said, rolling my eyes and praying my cheeks wouldn't get red. "What was your question?"

"Record. What's your favorite record?" he clarified.

"Oh," I said, getting up and walking over to my collection. I flipped through the vinyl, before settling on the one that I was looking for.

"It changes often," I elaborated, turning the the table on and placing the needle down. "But this one is probably my favorite. It's called 'The Planets', and my copy is from the early seventies."

"'The Planets'?"

"Mhm, it's seven songs written about the planets in our solar system. One of the most well known pieces of music," I said.

"Huh. Didn't picture you as a classical music kind of guy," he teased as the music started playing.

"Well, I compose music for a job, so it does kind of make sense," I shrugged, taking my place next to him once again.

"You what?" Tucked asked, mild astonishment in his voice.

"Have I not told you that?" I asked, to which he shook his head. "Yes," I said with a nod, "I'm a freelance composer."

"Like, as a full-time job?"

"Basically. That's what I was doing when you walked in," I explained. I wasn't sure how it hadn't been brought up before, I guess Tucker just distracted me from my everyday life.