Just Stay (7 page)

His entire body suddenly feels as though it wants to move closer to Evan, to touch him and feel his skin. So Seb doesn't move, because he's afraid he won't be able to help himself, if he does.

"Well?" Evan finally says, clearly a bit uncomfortable at Seb's silence, so Seb forces himself to speak.

"It was beautiful," he says. And a moment later, he panics. Those are
not
the words he meant to say out loud. He did
not
mean to say that it was beautiful. That's a word he has reserved for himself, a way to describe Evan and everything he is, inside his own mind. He can't believe he just said it out loud.

But Evan doesn't seem to mind. Sure, he looks a bit taken aback, and his gaze flicks around for a little bit, as though unsure how to respond, but he doesn't look at Seb like it's the weirdest thing he has ever heard. Instead, he clears his throat a bit.

"Thank you," he says, clearly a bit awkward. But the emotion behind the thanks is real, and it makes Seb feel a little bit better.

"I've never had the patience for that," Seb says then, breaking the tension with a small smile, nodding at the guitar. "Would be awesome to know how to play, though."

Evan glances down at the guitar, before holding it out to Seb.

"Here," he says. "I'll teach you."

Seb's eyes widen, and he shakes his head.

"Oh no," he says. "It's really not my thing, trust me."

"Just the basics," Evan insists. "I'll be nice, I promise."

Seb looks at him suspiciously, and Evan gives him a crooked grin. And just like that, Seb gives in, sitting up properly with a sigh. Evan hands him the guitar.

They are both sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but pretty close together, almost facing each other, and Seb takes the guitar and awkwardly positions it in his lap.

"I just know I'm gonna regret this," he mutters, and Evan chuckles.

"We'll see," he says. "Now, start by putting your fingers like this."

He gestures with his hand, and Seb tries to copy it, wrapping his hand around the neck of the guitar. The strings are made of metal, and he experimentally presses down on them, frowning slightly.

"Alright," Evan says. "Let's start with the A-chord."

He points out the right points to press down on the strings, and Seb makes an attempt, failing rather miserably.

"No, like this," Evan says, and actually takes Seb's hand, guiding his fingers to the right places. Seb tries to ignore how his throat suddenly constricts, and how his face heats up. Evan's hand is warm against his, firm in its instruction, and Seb glances up at Evan's face. He is so close.

"You gotta press down harder," Evan tells him, as Seb makes a swipe at the strings with his other hand, trying to get some reasonably good sound out of the instrument.

"It hurts," he says with annoyed humor, and Evan smiles.

"You get used to it," he says, and Seb knows what he means; as Evan's left hand touches his, he can feel the roughness of his fingertips, hardened from pressing down on guitar strings countless times.

"You sure about that?" he asks with a small, nervous laugh, and Evan chuckles.

"I'm sure," he says. "Practice makes perfect."

And then, Seb dares to look at him again, dares to look up and watch his face―only to see Evan looking up at him at the same time. And for a few, agonizingly long seconds, they both just sit there, frozen, Seb's hands on the guitar and Evan's hands on his.

Their faces are inches apart. Seb can see every little variation of green in those eyes. His heart is beating fast, loudly.

And then, he breaks the spell.

"Maybe I should stick to writing," he says with a small laugh, hoping he isn't being too obvious about the sudden attempt to change the atmosphere. But if Evan notices, he doesn't show it, and he pulls back an inch or so, pulling his hands away from Seb's.

"Here," Seb says, handing over the guitar, and Evan smiles, as he takes it.

"I'm not giving up on you," he says jokingly, and positions the guitar in his lap, as Seb lies back in the corner of the couch, like he did earlier. Evan licks his lips.

"So, something else?" he asks, the slightest hint of anxiety in his voice, like Seb heard before.

"Sure," Seb says, smiling, and Evan seems to hesitate this time, before he starts playing.

It's a happier tune this time, and as Evan starts singing, Seb frowns.

"Hey, I know this song," he says, a hint of suspicion in his voice, and Evan stops playing, a sheepish look on his face.

"I may have heard it the other day," he says pointedly. "And I may have peeked at your phone, to get the title."

Seb feels a blush creep up his neck, as he realizes what Evan is talking about. The other day, when they were sitting on that bench. Evan is playing the same song that Seb was listening to, and suddenly, he gets a weird, fluttering sensation in his stomach.

"So you learned it?" he asks, honestly shocked, and Evan shrugs.

"I was bored," he says. "And I liked the song."

He gives Seb a small smile, one that looks a lot like the one he had that day, the new smile. The one that makes his entire face soften and his eyes shine.

"Go on, then," Seb says over-nonchalantly, and Evan isn't lost on it. He scoffs, smiling, before turning back to his guitar. And as he starts playing, his voice carrying through the air, Seb actually does close his eyes, and just listens.

Chapter 6

The Note

Seb's head is buzzing. He's in the middle of a lecture on syntax and grammar (
essential
to writing, according to the lecturer), and he can't remember the last time he felt so restless.

He alternates between sitting upright and slouching in his seat, between fiddling a pen between his fingers and folding his hands on the desk in front of him. He glances up and down the row he's on, fold-up seats occupied by several students, on a row identical to the ones behind him, higher up, and the ones in front of him, descending down to floor level. He glances at the clock above the door; its hands are moving at an agonizingly slow pace.

He can't wait to get out of here, can't wait to pack up his notes and books and hurry out through that door. Can't wait to get out of this stuffy lecture hall and get some fresh air.

He can't wait to see Evan.

It's not as though he hasn't seen Evan recently; after spending Friday night together and just hanging out, they hung out a lot during the weekend, too. They watched movies, played videogames, ate pizza, alternating between Seb's dorm and Evan's. And now, it's Tuesday. Which means it has already been almost two days since Seb last saw him.
Two days.
He can't believe he went for longer than that without really even thinking about Evan, before. How can he not think about him?

It's late afternoon, and almost an hour of the lecture left. Seb is busy scribbling random doodles in his notepad, when he hears a small tap behind him, followed by a very hushed
shit
. He turns around, noticing that someone behind him has dropped their pen, and he picks it up. It's only when he looks up and reaches up to hand it back to them, that he half-freezes.

"Thanks," the girl says, before pausing. Then she remembers. "Hey, Seb."

Seb doesn't reply, only half-smiles. It's Clara, her auburn hair pulled up in a messy knot at the back of her head, and Seb tries not to feel too awkward about the fact that last time he saw her, she kissed him. She smiles, seemingly not at all bothered, herself.

"Haven't seen you in a while," she says, dropping her voice to a whisper. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Seb whispers back, and she nods. He hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should ask something back, turn back around or just sit there and stare. Clara saves him the trouble of deciding.

"How did your assignment go?" she asks, and Seb remembers that they have more than this class together.

"I think it went pretty well," he says, even though he has no way of knowing. "You?"

She makes a face.

"Not the most inspiring stuff," she admits. "But I think I passed."

Seb nods slowly, again wondering what the hell he's supposed to say, when the lecturer clears his throat.

"No talking, please," he says, and Seb turns back in his seat, facing the board. He doesn't reply, only gives a sheepish look, while Clara says
sorry
in a low voice behind him. The lecturer seems content with that, and keeps going.

The rest of the lecture doesn't move much faster and is very uneventful, but eventually, it finally finishes, and Seb gathers up his things as everyone gets up to leave. He's just about to stand up and sling his bag over his shoulder, when a slender, pale hand slaps something down on the desk in front of him, and he looks up. Clara is already hurrying down the stairs from her seat, her back turned to him, and Seb looks down.

She left him a note, and he picks it up and opens it. There is a phone number written on there, signed by Clara, and Seb just stares at it for a moment. And then its hit him; a girl just gave him her number. He's pretty sure that has only happened once or twice in his entire life, before.

He swallows down the weird sense of satisfaction he feels at it, before folding up the note again and shoving it in his pocket, and leaving the lecture hall.

Despite only having been at Evan's place a couple of times, Seb's feet seem to know exactly where to go, all on their own, and before long, he's standing in front of Evan's dorm room, knocking.

"It's open!" Evan calls from inside, and Seb lets himself in. Evan is seated on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV that usually stands lined up against the wall to save space, but which he occasionally pulls out into the room when he needs to. He's holding a Playstation 3 controller, but as soon as he sees Seb, he throws up his hands.

"Dude," he exclaims. "Finally! Do you have any idea how boring it is to play this game by yourself?"

"Actually, I do," Seb says, dumping his bag on the floor and making his way over to the couch. He pats Evan's shoulder in a jokingly condescending manner. "I'm here to rescue you."

Evan doesn't say anything, only makes a noise of sarcastic gratitude, as if saying
yeah right,
and Seb smiles as he slumps onto the couch next to him.

"
Tekken
or
SoulCalibur
?" he asks, but it's an unnecessary question; it's obvious from the screen and the characters Evan is currently using which game it is.

"
SoulCalibur
," Evan replies, eyes on the screen, resuming the match he's in the middle of. "
Tekken
blows."

"It really doesn't," Seb says unenthusiastically. They've had this conversation before. "You wanna keep playing by yourself?"

Evan shoots him a glance, and Seb smiles smugly at him.

"Just let me finish this one," Evan mutters, turning back to the game, and Seb keeps his smile, even though Evan can't see it.

"Fair enough."

"There's pizza, by the way," Evan says absently, nodding toward his bedside table, and Seb glances at it. He is hungry, he realizes; he hasn't eaten since lunch.

"Don't mind if I do," he replies and gets up from the couch, making his way over to the small table, where a big, flat box is sitting. He has just picked it up and started moving back to the couch, when he notices Evan stop and pick something up off the floor. It's a piece of paper, and Evan unfolds it.

"What's this?" he asks, holding it up, and Seb realizes that it's the note from Clara.

"Clara's number," he says, sitting back down on the couch, pizza box in his hands. "You know, from the party? The brunette?"

Evan nods slowly as he remembers.

"The one who kissed you," he mutters, looking at the note, almost as though he didn't really mean to say that out loud.

"Apparently," Seb continues, unaware, while Evan looks up, "we've got some classes together, and she handed me that today."

He nods toward the note in Evan's hand, and Evan looks at it again.

"You gonna call her?" he eventually asks, looking up at Seb, who takes a bite out of a pizza slice; it's very cheesy, lukewarm and delicious.

He doesn't know what to answer, at first. He hasn't really thought about it, hasn't really deliberated what he thinks of Clara at all. So he shrugs.

"I don't know," he says, chewing, and Evan looks at him, as though waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. So Evan just looks back at the note and hands it to Seb, who, surprised, takes it and puts it back in his pocket. Silence falls for a few moments, before Evan straightens.

"Alright," he says, handing a controller to Seb. "Time to kick your ass."

Seb is still there by the time it's dark outside. In that time, he and Evan have been through a small tournament of video game violence, watched an episode of
Game of Thrones
, and now, Seb is lying on the couch, legs over the other end's armrest. Evan is sitting on the floor, back against the couch, an acoustic guitar in his hands, and the whole atmosphere is just generally relaxed.

Evan isn't really playing anything. There is music on in the background, and he seems to just be fiddling with the guitar strings, finding comfort in simply holding the instrument. Seb watches him from his vantage point, watching his profile, as Evan seems so utterly relaxed and at peace.

"Did you always want to make music?" Seb asks, and Evan glances up at him.

"Yeah," he says. "For as long as I can remember."

He fiddles with the guitar strings.

"How about you?" he asks. "Always wanted to be a writer?"

"For as long as I can remember," Seb echoes, and smiles when Evan glances up at him again, Evan smiling back.

"I've always made up stories," Seb says, as Evan turns back to his guitar. "Always liked making people feel things, expressing myself with words, telling someone else's story, fictional or not."

"Sounds like me," Evan says, and Seb looks at him. Evan pauses for a split second, as though he meant to word that differently. Then he resumes his fiddling. "Except with music."