Band On The Run

Back To Black

Thoughtfully, I peered down at the tangled amount of fingers, ignoring the puffs of breath that crystallized on the air before me. Our hands fitted together well, they always had. It wasn’t like this was anything new. They were the perfect size for one another clasped together as they were now, trying to ward off some of the northern air that was attacking New York at the moment.

With that remaining on my mind, I squeezed his hand a little bit too forcefully. The fact that the guitar callous pressed back against mine had a grin pressing onto my mouth.

That got his attention from where he’d been wrestling one handed with his backpack. If it wouldn’t cause some wounded pride, I would’ve told him solemnly that just the inanimate strap had him beat long before. I made sure to swallow those words. Anyways, it had been amusing to watch.

There was a slightly alarmed look in Nick’s eyes when he glanced towards me, eyes wide and questioning. “Are you cold?” he asked in all seriousness.

It would have been better as a joke, but I only smiled gently in response instead of letting some sarcastic comment come out. “All bundled up,” I informed him, glancing down at myself for good measure. Between the grey hoodie beneath the leather jacket and scarf, barely any of my skin was getting whipped by the cold air. Well, besides the rips at the knees in my jeans, which was – in hindsight – a poor decision.

Making sure to fix him a reassuring smile, since he seemed to doubt most of my proclamations these days – with good reason – he just gave me a little distracted grin. He was still having his one handed battle with his backpack.

Trying to ignore it, I let my eyes drift ahead without really looking. The sidewalk was almost deserted and allowed my mindless wanderings to happen. Thinking about it, the decision to walk wasn’t my brightest ideas either. We could have just taken Nick’s car this morning, though it never seemed to leave its underground parking spot these days. We could have even just caught a cab as we left the studio. But no, I was too stubborn, and it was my own fault that my cheeks were getting slapped pink with the air cold enough to have the odd sharp snowflake descending down to us.

When I heard Nick give a little grunt that was very familiar, though it was made this time due to frustration – very different from the usual – I found there was no ignoring it. If I didn’t help soon he was going to end up like a confused cat caught in a plastic bag.

“Here,” I said, pulling us to a stop with our connected hands before dropping the contact.

Nick could only send me a bewildered expression, eyebrows rising into his fringe.

Getting him to turn around with a gesture of my hand, I reached up to where the bag was still strapped over one of his shoulders, yanking it out of his hands so it rested more or less normally. With my deft fingers, I ripped the zipper back in place easily before fixing the length of the strap easily. And the job was done. I supposed it helped that I had two hands to help me.

Placing both hands on his shoulders, I spun him around to walk forwards, patting him lightly as I did so. “Now that wasn’t so hard,” I told him, gently resting my chin on his shoulders as we continued on.

“Shut up,” Nick replied, but despite his words there was a chuckle in them.

Not content with letting me walk behind him in such a fashion, he reached back, gripping my hand again. With that he gave me a little tug so that I had to skip two steps in order to get beside him.

Laughing I pressed a teasing kiss on his cheek as we walked. It was strange that I suddenly wasn’t noticing the cold air against my cheeks, but I could register that his own were cold against my lips. Jokingly he scrunched his nose up at the contact, which only succeeded in making me laugh again.