Grey Skies, White Lies - Larina | [COMPLETE]

Chapter 4 | "They're Just Green."

- Marina's POV -

We got to Lizzy's flat at around 10:30pm, my freezing cold fingers caressed the corner of her denim jacket as we walked, with interlinked-arms and the silence the night left, following us.

"I know it's not much." Lizzy shrugged as she crossed her arms tightly, as if she was trying to protect herself from any judgement I may have. I had none.

"How could I judge you on your temporary flat as if mine would be any better?" I giggled, settling down on her blue fabric sofa to show her I felt comfortable so she could stop feeling so on edge. "I'd be on the streets tonight if it wasn't for you, trust me - this is more than fine." I assured.

Lizzy smiled at me before walking over to the open-planned kitchen desk-top where the kettle was.

"Tea, coffee? Something stronger..." She offered. As soon as she saw the contemplation on my face, she opened the top cupboard filled with alcoholic beverages. "I don't drink much, I promise." She said, biting her lip at the sight of the cupboard-full of glass bottles.

"I'll just have a vodka and tonic please, if that's okay with you?" I settled. I knew wine made me emotionally unstable, and whiskey wouldn't allow me to get home the next morning - I thought I'd play it safe.

She poured me a large glass and brought it over to me. She was so elegant, she even made handling tonic water look like a scene from the Moulin Rouge.

"Thank you." I whispered as I took the glass from her hand and pressed it against my lips.

"I really didn't mean for any of this to-" She began, but I immediately cut her off.

"I know. None of this is on you, don't be silly!" I assured her, placing my hand on her thigh and tapping my finger slightly. "You didn't ask for a psychotic drunk to verbally abuse you whilst you were drinking your coffee!" I added, attempting to lift the mood slightly.

She giggled, shifting slightly at what I guess could only be the feeling of my hand on her tight, black jeans.

"You've got such beautiful eyes." I told her, distracting myself from getting lost in the hazel-green maize within them.

She blushed and looked down at her lap, smiling to herself before returning to face me. "They're just green." She replied, modestly.

"They're fascinating." I corrected.

Silence fell upon us again, as did the moonlight through a crack in the red velvet curtain.

"So, do you write music? Or just perform?" She asked, her emerald-green iris' still painfully distracting.

"I, I do both!" I stuttered. I seemed to feel uneasy whenever she mentioned this. Perhaps it was because the desperation wore me out, or perhaps it was because I knew she was supposed to be a "rival" when she so very felt like a companion already.

"That's cool, have you got a record deal in progress?" She asked, smiling at me with her pearly white teeth, seemingly genuinely happy for me. Why can't I be so selfless?

"Sort of, it's tough to tell." I replied, I sounded so blunt but I couldn't bear to speak about it for longer than I had to, the passion inside of me always left me uneasy. Music is my life, writing music is too, I can't bear to express this to anyone in the same boat as me, no matter who they are.

"It is tough." She clarified, clearly sensing my sudden change of tone.

"Joey said I wouldn't have this deal without him anyway." I said, as if to finalise the fact that I wouldn't get it, regardless of whether I had competition or not.

"Why so?" Lana asked me, raising her eyebrows.

"He knows a guy, who knows a guy, that kinda thing. Though I got spotted alone, he said he could ruin it for me with the click of his fingers." I sighed, looking towards the ceiling. Why was I in a stranger's flat talking to her about my issues? She doesn't care, she doesn't know me, she doesn't want to know me.

"That's complete bullshit, Marina. If it was that easy for him end someone's career, why doesn't he have one in music himself? He'd have to be majorly powerful to even have those kinds of connections." She stated, raising her tone slightly.

She looked at me, she could sense my naivety, my integrity, the initiative I so desperately wanted to disperse into my music career. I was just scared.

I placed my hand on her leg again, a soulful attempt for her to sense the longing I felt in my heart, for her to realise I was just scared.

She clasped her hand on top of mine and tightened a squeeze around my palm and the back or my hand. Her hands felt so soft, softer than anybody's hand I've held before.

She got it, she understood that I needed this. I understood that she did too, and that scared me.