Fire & Songs

17 - 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤

The music is loud around him, echoing in his mind. Peter can almost feel the music bass vibrating through the floor, making his heart shake. Or perhaps it's because of the way Saifa is swaying behind his mic, as glorious as ever, shining brightly under the spotlights. There's a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead, a few strands of copper hair sticking to his skin as he moves, his fingers rapidly moving over his guitar as the music takes an upbeat speed.

Peter may be a little more than just fascinated by Saifa when he can't even take his eyes off him. He can barely keep up with his surroundings, barely even remembering to drink his beer as his eyes follow the Fae.

It's getting harder for Peter to deny that what he feels for Saifa may not be as platonic as he wishes. He hates the idea, but Saifa is so beautiful, all copper hues, caramel shades and green tints, and sharp, masculine lines and curves that show strong and firm muscles flexing as he moves, that it is becoming increasingly difficult to pretend he isn't attracted to him. He's mesmerizing, and Peter finds himself having trouble breathing as his heart hammers strongly against his ribs.

He thinks he shouldn't have agreed to return to Saifa's gig because even though he can't deny his attraction to Saifa any longer, he hasn't learned how to handle this emotion. Peter is pretty sure the High Fae won't ever look at him that way. No matter how hard Peter thinks about it, there's no way. Especially from his experience with Theoden. It seems that some parts of his personality are just... impossible to handle. If not plainly unloveable.

Well, Peter doesn't know. He tries not to think that way, but sometimes these thoughts still find a way to sneak inside his mind and pull the painful strings of his heart and soul.

However, as of now, Saifa is singing, his smooth voice echoing all around Peter, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. When he returns his attention to the High Fae, he can't help but notice that his mind almost immediately eases, forgetting the self-deprecating thoughts and the pain that comes with them. Everything seems easier when his eyes stay on Saifa.

Soon, the Fae is done, and he almost jumps off the stage, rushing to Peter with a bright, warm smile. It became a familiar occurrence, Peter coming to Saifa's shows and them having a drink together afterwards. So, it doesn't surprise him when Saifa casually wraps his left arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer with a bright, charming smile.

"Did you like it?" he inquires, already pushing Peter towards the bar.

No matter how many times he has told Saifa precisely how good he thinks he is and how confident the Fae is in his abilities, Peter has come to realise that Saifa likes being reassured and complimented, especially by Peter. His smile would take a new texture then, showing a little less teeth and a little more lips, emotions swirling within his emerald orbs.

"I did. You were amazing," Peter smiles, hailing Aiman to order their drinks.

"Hey, guys," the barman greets them, throwing his white towel over his shoulder as he leans over the counter. "What is it going to be tonight?" He inquires, "Shots? Beers? Cocktails?"

Saifa glances at Peter before smirking, "Should we try shots again?"

Peter grimaces in answer. "I have work tomorrow," he grumbles.

"Not before the evening," Saifa replies, leaning closer to Peter, "and I know you don't have any lecture tomorrow." He turns to Aiman, beaming as he orders. "Give us six shots."

The Werewolf nods, smirking as his eyes move from Peter to Saifa before turning to prepare their drinks.

"I hate you," Peter mumbles, leaning against the wooden counter, his eyes resolutely on the dancing crowd a few feet away from them.