We don't want to label it

VII

Eddy takes a deep breath once he closes the door to the studio behind him. He would dearly love to do some editing, which is what he's pretty sure Brett must be doing right now. It feels really unfair for him not to, but look. He's probably got no more than an hour before Tory becomes very unhappy with his absence and he really, really, really needs to practise as well. Rehearsals for Prokofiev start tomorrow. He sighs and starts unpacking his violin.
Brett will understand.

"What do you want to watch?" he says once he comes back into the living room. He has wound up practising for the full hour and swallows his guilt about leaving Brett to do their work alone like a pro. He can't just ignore Tory the whole night. Maybe he'll do a bit of editing once she goes to bed. 
"You choose." she says sweetly. 
I mean, he wants to say Bleeding Steel. But somehow he doesn't think that will work for the expectant face in front of him. 
"I really don't mind." he lies smoothly. "I just want to sit with you and cuddle up."
It's a small smile, but a smile all the same. He grins.
"So... what would you like?"
"Um..." she glances up at him, all coquettishly like she's good at. "How about Lost in Paris? I hear it's super good."
Like a pro, he doesn't even blink. He certainly doesn't sigh, even though inside of him there is definitely one hidden. Oh, God. It's a romcom, isn't it? He hates romcoms. They are always ridiculously sappy and so predictable it's not even funny. He smiles at her and nods anyway. Because look. It doesn't matter, really. She's just been here, waiting for him for an hour. He still gets to sit here next to her with his arms around her narrow shoulders. He can toy with her silky hair. They'll probably have a round two, later. It gives him tickles just to think about it. Who cares whether or not he likes the film?
"Sure. You gonna set it up? I just need to go toilet."
"And they say romance is dead." she remarks casually as she reaches for the remote. 
Shit. She doesn't like when he says that? But how else is he going to say it? Just walk off without a word? He gets up gingerly and goes to the loo. He pees quickly, then takes his phone out of his back pocket.

    "Bro. How's editing going? Sorry I'm not doing anything but I'll do some later."

He washes his hands, then leans against the sink and waits to see if he gets back to him. His phone buzzes within twenty seconds.

    "It's fine, Eddy. You enjoy there. Hey. I've got an idea I want to run by you tomorrow. Can we meet up at lunch?"

He glances at the still pale face in the mirror. Of course he can meet up, but why? He doesn't mind, though. It'll be nice to have lunch with a friendly face. He barely knows anyone in the orchestra and he's way too shy to strike up a conversation with any of his peers, who are all at least twenty years older than him anyway. He nods to himself and types. 

    "Sure. 12:30, normal place?"

    "Absolutely. See you then. Don't stress. I know you're useless anyway ;-)"

He laughs and sticks the phone back in his pocket, then walks back out to where Tory is waiting, the film paused at the start. 
"Ready?" he asks. "Want anything to drink?"
"No, thanks." she says. "I didn't know going to the toilet was so funny, by the way."
He stills for a second, then sits down beside her. 
"It was just Brett, taking the mick out of me. It's nothing."
"Of course." she smiles sweetly. She tucks her legs under her and leans into him. "Hmm, you smell nice. Let's watch."
"Thanks." he says quietly. He runs his nose through her hair and presses a kiss to the soft silk. It's worth feeling guilty for. "Let's."