𝑫𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝑬𝒄𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ☘︎ Robert Keating

002

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ august 2018

The paper wrapper missed her head by about an inch, "what the fuck, Robert," June huffed.

He grinned lazily from across the room. The band's writing session had officially derailed into nonsense. No one had come up with anything useful in hours, they'd hit a wall, and boredom had crept in fast. Right now, Robert had found nothing better to do than to throw rubbish at her.

They were at the rehearsal space again, the converted nunnery with its stained-glass windows and perpetual smell of dust and guitar strings. June had become a regular now. After she helped with the lyrics to, I Want You, they'd asked her to come back. She didn't say no. She hadn't wanted to.

"Can you please take it outside I can't stand this anymore," Elijah was sprawled out on the couch playing with his necklace. "Maybe that's not a bad idea," Robert uttered, "what?" June dodged another small wrapper coming from his direction. "Going outside," he shrugged, "getting some fresh air, god knows we can use it."

June didn't mind the idea, "alright let's go, and throw your trash in the bin for once."

It was colder outside than she expected. The sky was steel-grey, and the wind bit through her jumper and jacket. She tucked her hands into her sleeves.

Robert didn't seem bothered. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his hoodie and popped one between his lips.

"Oh, can I have one too, please," June pleaded upon seeing what Robert was holding.

He blinked at her. "You smoke?"

"Yes," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh. Didn't expect that from you."

"Why not?"

He studied her for a second, his expression unreadable. "I don't know. You don't look the type."

June shrugged. "Whatever that means."

Robert lit the cigarette, then hesitated. "I've only got one left. You take it."

June smiled at the sentiment, "we can share it, I don't mind." "Okay," Robert took out his light to put it on and passed the cig to June after he took the first drag.

They kept walked in comfortable silence alongside each other, passing the cigarette back and forth. After some time, Robert spoke up again.

"How'd you get into bass?" He took the now very small cig from June's hand and put it out against the floor with his shoe after taking a last drag.

"My dad," June replied, sliding her empty hands in her pockets.

Robert hummed, "My parents are both doctors, they don't really know anything about music."

"Oh," June looked at her feet, "my dad and I aren't really close, but he thought me to play, so I guess he was useful for that," she let out a small chuckle. "He was present physically, but emotionally is another story," she elaborated upon seeing Robert's confusion. "It's like he just didn't care."

Robert looked at the girl beside him with a sad look, "I'm sorry."

"Why?" June questioned.

"That your relationship with your dad isn't what it's supposed to be."

His voice was gentle. Sincere. It made her stomach turn a bit.

She glanced away, not wanting him to see how much that hit. "It's fine," she muttered.

"It's not though," he said, stopping mid-step to face her.

June kept her eyes on the pavement. His concern made something small and hidden in her want to crawl out and run.