Atlas
"This is where the shower gel is." Errol explained next to me, as he gently lifted and guided my hand towards what felt like a hanging shower caddy. "There's an extra loofa hung here." He lowered our hands to the edge of the caddy, allowing me to feel around for the scrubber. I gave him a nod, trying to get my nerves under control so my hand wouldn't shake against his.
It's just a shower, I thought to myself. You'll be fine.
"There's a towel folded on the counter here, along with a shirt and some shorts on my bed. If you need anything else, or any help, just call out." Errol finished, and I felt his hand gently release my own.
All I could do was nod with a solid 'Thank you.' The response was as genuine as I could make it sound... because genuinely, I was incredibly thankful that Errol had dropped what he was doing to come save me from the elements of nature.
"Don't mention it." He replied, and the tone in his voice made me unexpectedly smile. I was starting to do that a lot around him. Smile unexpectedly.
There was a bit of a pause where neither of us said anything... until Errol cleared his throat a bit awkwardly.
"Right, so I'll let you- uh, get to it." Was what he finally settled on. I heard his footsteps fade against the tiled bathroom floor, before the door closed behind him.
That was when I finally let out the breath I didn't even know I was holding.
The shower went about as well as expected.
Terribly.
Like really fucking terribly.
Not so terrible that I needed to call Errol, because lets be honest, my pride would never recover if Errol had to literally help my butt ass naked self out of his shower... but terrible enough where I managed to drop the shower gel about four times, and had to damn near crawl around his ginormous shower floor to try and find it again.
I also almost slipped trying to walk out, but the glass door handle ended up saving me from what was surely about to be the most embarrassing moment of my life.
Regardless of these trials and tribulations, the hot water running down my cold damp skin felt like heaven. By the time I got out and wrapped the towel loosely around my waist, I felt like a whole new person.
Errol had placed my white cane against the bathroom counter, and I found it easily. It was moments like these where I wished I could look over and catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror... but those days were long gone. I just relied on my fingers to try and brush some of my messy hair back.
Errol left some clothes out for me on his bed. He just never mentioned where exactly, or that he had a king size bed. I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to feel around for folded material, and when I did finally find the stack of clothes he mentioned, I accidentally knocked something off the bed.
"Damn it." I grumbled, setting my cane down on the mattress and gripping my towel tight as I climbed completely onto Errol's bed, to reach the other side. I felt around the floor and found the article of clothing I thought I dropped, but there was something else there that got caught onto what I assumed was a shirt. The folded material I dropped felt too thin to be shorts, and Errol told me he'd lay both items out.
At first I couldn't figure out what got caught on the shirt. The mysterious thing was like a strap with hooks on the end. When my fingers found the underwiring of the mystery garment, everything sorta clicked.
Of course, I thought, unhooking the snagged fabric and tossing the lace bra back where I had found it.
That was when I scrambled to finish getting dressed. Who knew what other shit I'd stumble upon in here that I could've gone the rest of my life not knowing about.
Errol
I spent every second I could, cleaning up.
I hadn't expected to have Atlas in my home, let alone leave everything here the way it was to go get him. This place was usually in a slight disarray, which never really bothered me... until now.
Even though Atlas couldn't see the mess, I felt like he could feel the mess, and that might've even been worse.
I tidied up the kitchen, checking on what I left cooking before cleaning the dishes I used to cook. It took me by surprise how long Atlas spent in the shower, and even though my mind raced to the worst-case scenario, like him slipping and hitting his head, or somehow drowning, I forced myself to stay put.
In fact, I sat back at the piano and started to compose more. It was the only way I could get my antsy spirit to calm the fuck down, and it gave my hands something else to focus on.
Hendrix had in fact torn me a new asshole this morning during our meeting. Though I had made some impressive progress with the first Act, it still wasn't where Hendrix needed it at... so I spent the entire afternoon working on it. I went over that work now, deciding whether I wanted to keep this slow build into the second Act, or speed up the tempo of the music.
It was times like these, where I wished my mother was just a phone call away. She always knew what to do... Knew just what my work needed.
The irony of that, and what this play was about, didn't go unnoticed.
I coudn't tell you how much time passed as I played, and maybe that was why my whole body jumped when I heard a noise somewhere near the entrance to the living room. My fingers stalled at the keys as I glanced over in the direction the sudden noise came from.
"Shit, sorry!" Atlas rushed out, as he knelt to the floor to look for the cane that had fallen against the wood. He found it just seconds later, before straightening himself up again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."
Atlas was wearing both the shirt and shorts I laid out for him on my bed. The shirt was an old band shirt, and the smallest one I could find, but it still hung well past his waist. He had tucked a front corner into the hem of his waistband, which made the shirt seem a bit more tailored to him than it actually was.
The basketball shorts were also too big for him, but the drawstring helped with that. He had managed to pull the string as tight as possible, securing it around his waist. My line of sight followed up to his golden locks of hair, which were still wet and tossed a bit crazily. As Atlas moved closer, using his white cane thing to feel the area in front of him, I could see little droplets of water dripping onto the shoulders of the light grey band tee.
"Please don't stop on account of me." He added, now just a couple feet away from me. It looked like he was looking for a chair to sit on.
"You didn't interrupt." I assured him, even though I was clearly a bit rattled from how into playing I had gotten. "I just thought I'd try out a bit of what I worked on today."
There was a smile on Atlas's lips now, and I was finding it more and more difficult not to return those smiles... whether he could see them or not.
"It sounds incredible." Atlas replied, that smile growing slightly. "Makes me wish I gave the piano a second look when I still had my sight."
Atlas chuckled as he said that last part, but I could visibly hear the dissapointment laced into his words.
"And who's to say it's too late?" I asked him.
"Probably the same people who say I can't drive anymore." Atlas's smile faltered as he replied jokingly.
"And yet here you are, a blind sculptor." I countered. "If Stevie Wonder can get on here and play some keys, I don't think it's too late for anyone to learn."
It looked like Atlas was going to say something, but just as soon as his lips parted, they snapped closed again.
"Here." I stood, pushing the large piano bench back to slowly approach Atlas. He let me take his hand to gently guide him to the piano, but there was a shit ton of uncertainty blatantly displayed on his face.
"I really don't think I have the talent for-" Atlas started, but I didn't let him finish.
"Everyone starts somewhere, regardless of talent or no talent. I've been playing for decades, yet my first song I ever learned was twinkle twinkle little star and it took me months." I explained to Atlas, as I sat him down on the bench. "Now shift forward a bit until you're on the edge of the seat. We're going to play something together."
Atlas's eyebrows furrowed even deeper in confusion when he glance up in my general direction, but he did as he was told. I then sat down on the remaining space of the bench, right behind him with both my legs on either side of his. My feet could still reach the peddles easily.
"W-What are you doing?" Atlas asked with a full set of nerves now. I wasn't necessarily touching any part of him, but I was close enough to catch the faint whimft of shampoo from his hair. Close enough to see every droplet of water that seperated itself from those golden wet strands, just to drip onto the shoulders of the shirt. I made a note to get him a new shirt after dinner, since this one was getting fairly wet from his hair.
Being this close to him put into perspective just how different our body types were. I could easily see over his head, but preferred to tilt my head to the side, looking on just past his right ear.
"I told you we're going to play something together." I more or less whispered next to his ear, trying not to be too loud right beside him. He shivered at our proximity before squirming a bit, which pushed his body into mine slightly. That was when his body went rigid, and he scooted as far forward as possible withought falling off the bench.
I chuckled slightly, watching as yet another shiver ran through him.
"My father used to set me in front of him like this when I was smaller. He wasn't great at the piano, but he knew a few songs that he would teach me. I'll show you one now."
My hands stretched forward, easily reaching around Atlas on both sides to settle onto the keys. Atlas's hands were pressed tightly between his thighs like he was waiting in the principles office for his parents to show up.
"Relax a little," I instructed him, "And place your fingers right on top of mine."
Atlas's whole demeanor told me this had to be one of the weirdest things he'd ever done, but he did exactly what I whispered, and placed his fingers above my own.
His hands were warm to touch... something that felt more comforting than I could've ever imagined, as we began to play...
••