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"I'll be back soon! Bye!" You shouted to your mother in the kitchen, receiving a muffled 'be safe!' from her a few seconds later. You nodded in response but halted when you realised no one would acknowledge the action. Adjusting the loose sweater which rested on your shoulders, you rode the elevator down the building. With a little hesitation, you strode into the bustling city right at your doorstep.
It was a little hobby of yours, to sit yourself down at places that exude tranquillity, to observe and listen on the distinct sounds that make life what it is.
You were going people-watching.
It was a different place every time. Having just moved in recently, you were unfamiliar with the foreign territory you now live on, so you walk. You walk and walk and walk, taking breaks when you require them; stopping to observe. Listen. Analyse. You once witnessed a fight so dense that drove you to walk away, irked. You weren't listening in on their disorganised rage, instead concentrated on leaving.
This time, it was a bar a friend invited you to visit with her. It was started by an entrepreneur a few blocks down, attracting young adults the day after it opened. It was bursting with life with countless acts on stage, showcasing its strong point of having an array of drinks. You saw your friend from afar, carrying her hand to engage in greeting, while you settled for a more bashful smile.
"How are you, (Y/N)? Haven't seen you in a long time, how's the new school?"
"Giving me a headache as always, Allura, you know that." You laughed at the joke, hearing the familiar chuckle of the other as you walked down the avenue to the bar. Conversing with the female on the way you noticed businessmen and women rushing in the opposite direction, perhaps to catch the earliest bus home to their spouse or kids.
Early evening.
The blur of the neon lights which displayed the name of the bar came into view upon a closer approach, the absence of deafening music surprising you when you felt a voice lingering on your ear.
"It's only 5:18 in the evening, there aren't hormonal teenagers at this hour, nor are there repetitive EDM songs," Allura said, pushing the giant door that led into the bar, as you rolled your eyes with a smile at your friend's comment. The satisfying air-conditioner lightened the heat you both felt outside, making you forget the blistering weather. You found a decent seat away from the performance area that was dimmed down due to the absence of an artist. You noticed people of different ages, from a small family to a middle-aged couple. It was still a little empty though.
You were about to bring up the question to Allura when she discerned your confusion, already back with two drinks, wait- three?
"This bar only starts serving alcohol at 7 pm. Usually, the change in music genre drives them away before teenagers 'seize the night' as the saying goes." Allura whispers, using her fingers as quotation marks for the three words.
The audio feedback from the microphone catches your attention, directing your eyes to the bartender and then to the figure in the corner clutching onto an acoustic guitar. He was on his toes, bouncing, possibly to prevent his nerves from taking over.
The bartender spoke softly into the microphone, which left you looking to your friend for the name of the guy, who shushed you with a finger to her lips.
The lights displayed a soft pink glow, as the guy nodded to the bar's resident pianist to began the chords. The singer took his seat on the high stool, and with a strum of his guitar, you were positive it would lull you into a peaceful slumber.
Allura hoped for the best in his performance.
Not just because it was the singer's first time, but also because it was Lance, her best friend, singing about a girl who held his heart captive.
The girl was you.
Allura smiled softly as you audibly gasped from across her, your mouth forming an 'O' shape with hands hovering above your lap.
How would you feel?
Lance sang, eyes still closed in fear of messing up if he left them open; open to scan the room for your presence, open to see how you'd react. Would you walk away? Would you accept him?
That was what spurred him on. If he couldn't see you, his mind wouldn't be swirling with the outcomes replayed over and over again: shocked, confused, furious, disgusted reactions. Lance wouldn't admit to Allura that most of the scenarios he made up were negative, as endured by said friend. Every time he practised this song, it set his heart aflutter.
You, on the other end, was conflicted about whether to feel glee or disappointment. Was the song for Allura? You've unmistakably heard the male ramble on endlessly about the white-haired beauty at your table. It wasn't any secret, either, that you absolutely sucked at hiding your affections around Lance.
We were sat upon our best friend's roof, I had both of my arms round you, watching the sunrise replace the moon.
Your expression of astonishment softened as Lance sang the line effortlessly, chin resting on your interlocked hands. You recalled the day Lance sat with you on Allura's roof. You were feeling bored from the inability to sleep, to which you bothered the Altean if you could camp out on her roof.
At 4 am, to be exact.
Noticing your absence from when he took a restroom break, Lance figured you would be up on the roof, closer to the stars where you felt content.
You had conversed, a lot, that morning, stripping yourself of the façade you put on. You talked about things you would never imagine telling even Allura. You sobbed that night, laughed that night, experienced how incredible life can be if you're with the right person that night.
That night where Lance and you subconsciously inched closer with every passing hour. He encircled your frame, the two of you watching the night fade away with the pink and orange tint of the morning making its appearance in the break of dawn.
I'll be taking my time, spending my life,
By now, you were grinning from ear to ear.
Falling deeper in love with you.
Your heart was left rapidly beating as Lance opened his eyes, making eye contact with the girl whom he wishes could finally recognise him.
Recognise him, raw, stripped of his bravado and jokes. Recognise him, heart barely hanging onto his sleeve.
Recognise him, for him.
So tell me that you love me too.
Tell me that you love me too.
God, you felt like Emilia Clarke in Me Before You. Your expression held tenderness that words couldn't explain.
Tell me that you love me too.
He continued with a few more chords before closing the song with a bashful smile in your direction, eliciting messy claps from the small audience in the room. Walking off the platform hastily, Lance only concentrated on the steps caused by his squeaky shoes; it was the only thing keeping his feelings at bay.
The lights dimmed down again, the soft mumble of jazz resonating through the bar; the absence of guitar notes drew you back from your thoughts.
Allura nodded towards Lance the moment you turned to her, taking off from your seat in a flash. You jogged at a steady pace, surprising Lance with a bone-crushing hug after he barely managed to rest the guitar on the stand. He returned the embrace with arms around your waist, tracing small patterns on the small of your back. Lance laughed a blissful, gorgeous laugh when he felt you squirm, possibly from his fingers.
"So?" Lance grinned, both arms remaining on your waist.
"Damn, what happened to the shy Lance from earlier?" You joked, arms resting on his broad shoulders.
"He's dead; I killed him."
You rolled your eyes, a smile pulling at your lips as you felt his body gravitate towards yours. His eyes were mesmerising, putting you in a trance as you two stood there in silence.
A shout from a familiar voice startled you two, jumping in Lance's arms as you turned to the source; Allura had her hands cupped around her mouth, who had just shouted "kiss already!" across the bar.
It was Lance's turn to roll his eyes as he turned back to you, crashing his lips into yours before you could say anything. Melting into the kiss, you answered with similar fervour, fiddling with the hair at the bottom of the male's nape.
Lance reached up to grab your fidgety hand, intertwining your hands instantaneously.
"Wanna get out of here and watch the sunset?" You whispered softly. Panting a little from the kiss, you tried not to show disappointment at the lack of contact.
"Definitely." Lance grinned, planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand.
Yeah, you could get used to this.