A Thousand Miles from Comfort

{ERIN}♀{FIFTEEN}

I didn't know what I was doing, or how I had come to the decision that I wanted to be with Charlie, but I found myself kissing him, my fingers curled into his shirt in reckless abandon. He pulled away slowly, breathing hard, his eyes staring into mine.

He took a shaky breath before speaking. "Erin don't fuck with me on this. You have to be sure you want this, no backing out after you say you're sure." I stared up at him, gently uncurling my fingers and smoothing his shirt down.

"My whole life, I've forced my emotions away, pushed everything aside save for my education and my music. But only because I've been able to - nothing has ever forced me to feel so much, forced me to care so much, as you have. I've tried to pretend this thing between us doesn't matter, or even exist, but it's like... it's like telling myself I don't need oxygen to live, or that I can give up playing the cello right this instant." He looked at me curiously, eyes scanning my face.

"So what does that mean, Erin. Are you done fighting this?"

"Only if you are," I murmured and his eyes fell shut.

"I'm sorry. I just - we're so different, and I never thought I'd be able to see past your bitchiness -"

"Hey!"

"Sorry. But I did, and there's so much more, so much beneath the surface." His hand sneaked around my waist and pulled me close to him. "I'm in this if you are," he murmured.

I nodded and he tipped my head back, kissing me deeply.

"Come to my room with me," he whispered and my heart swung up into my throat.

"Charlie I'm not ready to -"

"Shhh," he chuckled, "Not for that. I just want to be with you. I sleep better when you're there." Charlie had to know, in some way, that I had only a quarter of the physical experience he'd had. The most I'd ever done was kiss a guy, and Charlie had surpassed most of that experience as well.

"What about my cello?" I asked, and he nodded, hoisting it up onto his back. We walked quickly to his dorm, both of us seemingly eager to be alone and together. We climbed the stairs quickly, quietly, passing his RA on the way up.

Charlie unlocked his door, and we ambled inside. He set my cello down and turned to me.

"I want to play you something," he murmured and I frowned.

"On the cello?" He grinned, shaking his head.

"I do some of my own EDM, and I know you like that stuff, so I was hoping you could give me an opinion on it?" I nodded eagerly. Charlie was as artistic as I was, even if it wasn't in the same way. He had talent and any chance for me to see it was a blessing.

He sat down at his desk, clicking on the monitor of his desktop and gesturing me over. He passed me a pair of headphones and I slipped them on as he opened a program and started playing something. It started with the base line playing something similar to Alberti base, and over it was a distinctive rhythm, counted out in 3's.

My foot started tapping of it's own accord, but my heart nearly jammed into my throat when I realized Charlie was the one singing on this. It was a brand new remix of Feel So Close, by Calvin Harris, but almost everything was different aside from the words and the basic notes. Charlie looked at me expectantly when the final note faded out, and I took in a shaky breath.

"Damn," I said, finally.

"Good damn?"

I laughed softly. "The best. That was... that was incredible, Charlie. How did you even manage to do that?" He chewed his lip lightly.

"Growing up, my parents paid me too much attention. As much of a douche as I am, my older brother was twice as bad. I think they just wanted to pretend he didn't exist, you know? So the spotlight was on me and my cello playing, because... well, it's what I was good at, and it's what they appreciated in terms of art. But electronic music is art too, you know? I taught myself all of this stuff, because doing it was the escape that cello playing wasn't."

I knew exactly what he meant. Cello was an escape for me because my parents didn't pay attention to it, making it solely mine. It was something artistic and spiritual simply because it wasn't for show.

"You're amazing," I murmured, and then flushed at how awed that sounded. Charlie wasn't phased, though.

"So are you, though." His foot touched mine, gently. "Erin, the amount of passion you put into your music could fuel a small home. And what you produce through that passion is so... unique and awe inspiring. I feel like shit when I hear you play because you're so incredible." I shook my head, feeling the tears forming as I gathered my words.

"Thank you," I said quietly, pushing my fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp. "Thank you for seeing me."

His eyes drooped shut and he blindly pulled me down onto his lap. I kept rubbing his scalp, my arms around his neck as we sat together. Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open and he looked up at me, his thumb brushing over my kneecap.

"Do you think this was supposed to happen? Like, are we just so different that we're the same." I smiled down at him.

"I don't care," I said gently. "I'm just glad it did."

Charlie smiled up at me, squeezing my knee.

"Did you wish your parents paid you less attention?" I asked, almost jealous of his childhood. He shrugged thoughtfully, his fingers absently skating up my arm and playing with the loose ends of my side French braid.

"I just wish... I wish they cared about me more than they cared about my cello playing." I nodded, letting my eyes fall shut as he gave me the same scalp treatment I'd given him.

"Are you tired?" he murmured into my forehead. I nodded and he carried me over to the bed and gently set me down. "Do you mind if I...?" I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down beside me. I kissed him lightly on the mouth.

His fingers slid through my hair, smoothing it over his pillow as he tucked me under his arm, and I nestled my head into the crook between his shoulder and his neck.

"Night, Erin." I smiled as I gently drifted off to sleep.