The Tribute Drummer

Morning

Johns POV still... yep

Her side of the bed was cold when I woke with a start. The red harsh light of the alarm clock saying 3.34 a.m. as I walked into the empty living room.

Her shoes were gone, she was gone.

Taking the stair's, I began to worry, how much did she really feel for me. Did I just stuff the deal by being heartless, taking the sex alone?

The light was on in the studio and as I paused at the door I could see the room was cleaner than I remember it from earlier, it was still a mess of cymbals though. She walked to a guitar and stood it up. Continuing to my guitar, she held it longer, checking the strings and tuning it, her ear was good.

Now or never.

"I missed you"

"Oh hi, did I wake you?" Her voice is clipped and crisp, no sign of the girl from a few hours ago. She keeps walking and cleaning but never looking at me directly, so this is my punishment.

"You should get some sleep"

"I'm fine, this is normal. I'm usually down here around now, tinkering" she smiled and walked away towards the drum kit, cymbals in disarray. I grabbed the post and lifted it into a position I thought was ok, the look she gave, telling me it wasn't "Go away John you'll be ill tempered if you haven't had your full fifteen hours"

"Well that's not nice"

"True though" The smile was back and we fixed the kit together. I dragged her back to bed, she took me away from the ground to heaven again. Afterwards we held each other and fell asleep. This is it, right here, just right.