"Sure," he agreed. "What do you want to do now? I can't make fun of the books in your room in the dark."
"I choose to believe, why can't you?" [Aliens/Conspiracy Roleplay] [One-on-One]
"I have some records and a battery powered plug in." She offered.
He nodded. "Sounds fine. A bit boring, but the light's are out, so I guess I can't complain."
"Hey, I have good music taste!" She said, heading upstairs.
As they entered her room, he glanced at her guitar. "Why don't you play something? Maybe cover one of those songs from your mysterious notebook?"
"Maybe not those." She said quickly. "They're not… ready yet."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself. I liked them." He let the subject drop, heading over to her records and looking through them.
She picked up her guitar anyway, ready to play along to whatever he picked.
He picked up a random one, not bothering to read what it was. He trusted her taste in music enough. "How about this one?"
"Ramones. Wise choose, my good sir." She said, nodding.
"Mm," he said noncommittally, turning it on.
She played along with the song.
(ok i don't want to be bitchy and honestly this is just as a general thing but like our sentences are getting increasingly shorter, should we start adding more detail and stuff to keep it movin?)
August watched her as she played, as her long messy hair fell into her eyes, as her fingers effortlessly slid across the frets. He envied her ability. He was a music lover himself, but in a more pretentious way that he almost hated. His parents had nearly forced him to take up piano and violin lessons, so his music lacked something. Some spark. Frankie's music was bursting with energy and passion. As she finished, he lightly clapped, but otherwise his expression remained neutral. "Cool stuff."
She looked up, grinning. "Thanks!" She said, leaning the guitar down. "Johnny Ramone only knew four chords, so it's easy to keep up with on guitar. Mimicking Joey's voice however? Really fucking hard." She shook her head. "Wish I could do that, though."
((Sorry, I'm kind of working on multiple things at once.))
"Why don't you play something?" he asked, sitting by the lamp and flipping the dead switch on and off repetitively. "Without any background music, I mean. And sing something. I don't know if your voice sounds like Joey's or not because you hardly sing around me."
She blushed, taking a deep breath before playing and singing softly. "Where do bad folks go when they die? They don't go to heaven where the angels fly. They go to a place of fire and fry. See 'em again, till the fourth of July!" She sang, smiling to herself.
Her voice was soft but with a raspy edge that gave it a lovely quality. He was not really a singing connoisseur –he was more into instrumental music– but he liked it. He continued to flick the light switch on and off. "Oh, cool," he said nonchalantly. "You're not blushing again, are you? I can't see in the dark."
"I'm not!" She lied, forcing a laugh. "Why do you keep assuming I'm blushing?" She asked, laying back slightly. She hummed, playing some more random cords. "Do you think it was city wide?"
"Maybe," he said, standing and feeling his way over so that he could sit by her. He was having a bit of trouble moving in the dark, but he assumed he'd find his way. "My phone's dead. Otherwise I'd see if it was trending on twitter or on a news site or something."
"Think my phone's still got some battery, but I don't wanna get up." She said, scooting back. "I think it might be." She admitted, playing again.
August tripped over something, although he wasn't sure what, and landed somewhere near Frankie with a crash. "God, I'm so graceful," he muttered, rolling onto his back and staring into the darkness. He listened to her play, enjoying the peaceful strumming as a soft sound against the intruding silence.
"You okay?" She asked, eyes closing. She was smiling softly, fingers slowing against the neck. Rain was falling against the window, and she was fighting to stay awake.
August nodded sleepily, his breathing growing steady. "Sure, your floor is comfy." He let the sound of her voice lull him into a state of semi-consciousness, that line between sleep and wakefulness that is equal parts warm and relaxing.
((GOD I love that state))
Frankie smiled softly to herself, almost dozing off. She honestly didn't hear the door opening and closing downstairs. "Cause half the blankets and and pillows I own end up there." She murmured.
He yawned noisily, his ears popping at the exact moment someone entered the house. "That explains it," he mumbled, grabbing the closest warm thing. It felt kind of leg shaped. Oh well.
She nodded, playing growing slower and softer. "Good thing my room's a mess." She said through a yawn. She laid back more, head landing on something warm. She didn't bother to question it at the moment.
The rain beating down on the roof lulled him even closer to slumber. He curled up closer to his heat source and closed his eyes.
The lights suddenly came back on.
Frankie blinked sleepily, groaning. "Goddamnit." She muttered, stumbling over to turn the lights back off. "I was actually fallin' asleep…"
August had assumed he'd been laying on Frankie's leg, but as his eyes opened and Frankie went to the switch, he realized he was still holding a leg. "What the fuck?" he managed as he sat up quickly.
"What?" She mumbled, still half asleep as she turned around. She was very much more awake once she did. "Um… August? You're seein' this, right?" She asked, stepping back.