Heterochromic Haze

30- Spring

With the end of a year comes the start of the next and winter very quickly melts into spring. All winter I've been counting down the days on the calendar, and today is the day.

This week is the week Amyas is finally coming to visit and as I wait for him outside the station, I find that I can barely stand still. My hands wring together nervously, my baggy, paint stained shirt tucked haphazardly into my floral jeans.

I grin as soon as I spot his golden head of hair, doing everything I can not to tackle him to the ground.

He opens his arms as soon as he spots me and I laugh, falling into them as I embrace him.

"I missed you." I mumble, smiling wider as he laughs.

"Fuck, I missed you too. You look good though, tell me everything." He demands, thrusting his bag into my arms as I walk him to my flat.

"What do you want to know?" I ask, shrugging the strap of his bag over my shoulder easily.

"What's living in London like? How's the gallery? How are you doing?" He lists off and I sigh, jabbing the button as we wait for the traffic lights to change.

It's only been 5 months, but already it feels like forever.

"It's pretty mental. My studio flat is tiny and loud but I love it. People here are a lot more accepting, but it's also so busy all the time, it can get lonely." I say, urging him forwards as the green man flashes.

"The gallery is good, they're taking on more of my pieces. They've even floated the idea of my own exhibition...but I don't know." I murmur, continuing with his questions.

Amyas looks at me with disbelief, his eyes wide as he slaps my arm.

"What?! Your own exhibition?! That's insane, Ledger! What do you mean, you don't know?!" He asks and I shrug helplessly.

"I'd need a lot of pieces, all of them cohesive, a narrative to go alongside. It's a lot of work, I don't know if I have it in me." I mutter, raking a hand through my hair.

He nods, coming to a stop beside me as I gesture to my building.

"It's just up here." I say, entering the doorway before leading him up the stairs.

I come to a stop outside my room, shoving the key into the lock and throwing myself against the door until it creaks open.

"I told you it was a shithole." I mumble, laughing at Amyas' expression.

He wanders in as I throw his bag down, letting him explore.

"Christ, Ledger, are these all yours?" He asks, gesturing to the various paintings and sculptures that litter any available space.

"Yeah. I try and keep most of it in the galleries studio but...yeah." I say, rubbing my neck.

"Wow. Do you do anything but work?" He jokes, laughing to himself.

I bite my lip, turning to the little kitchenette. The embarrassing answer to that is no, I don't do anything but work and exist.

"Do you want anything to drink?" I ask, busying myself with the kettle. He doesn't respond and I turn to see him frowning.

"You didn't say how you were?" He asks and I sigh, turning back to the kettle.

"I'm fine, Amyas." I say, making him a tea. Amyas loves tea. I bought herbal ones specially.

I bring it over to him, glancing at the piece that's caught his attention.

I swallow the lump in my throat when I see that it's one of my many Everett inspired pieces. It's a small one, just the throat and collar bone, but it's beautiful.

I had painted one side of it, meaning to do the other but never having really gotten round to it. The colours on the left side fade gently, meeting the right side which is nothing but pale grey.

"This is...it's really moving." Amyas says gently and I purse my lips.

"So, tell me what's been going on with you?" I ask, determined not to dwell.

My friend is here, my dearest friend. I refuse to be sad, to wish away this time with him. He turns, his expression unfocused as he takes his tea from me.

"Oh, well, you know. It's the same old thing." Amyas says quickly, his face turning away and that piques my interest.

"Oh no. No, no. What is it?" I ask, following him.

"It's nothing." He insists and I shake my head.

"It's that guy, isn't it? The one who wouldn't leave you alone?" I ask and Amyas sighs.

He flops down onto my sofa and I follow suit, staring at him intently until he relents.

"When you left, I sort of went off the rails a little bit. I didn't have you there to keep me anchored and Ev..." He cuts off quickly, my brows drawing together.

"Well, anyway, I didn't have anyone there anymore. I was at this party one night and people kept brushing against me and I was on the verge of completely freaking out when he showed up. He had this crazy scary aura, he didn't even have to say anything. He stayed by my side the whole night, telling anyone who got too close to me to back off." He says, his cheeks tinted pink as he smiles.

"What?" I ask, completely baffled.

"I know, it was really weird and I didn't know how I felt about it at first. We made a bit of small talk, his name's Wyatt and he once modelled for one of our life drawing classes?" He says.

I raise my brows, wondering if I'd recognise him. Life drawing models are a tricky thing, we're often so focused on minute details that things like their actual faces are very often forgotten or not noticed in the first place.

"So, what about him?" I ask and Amyas shrugs aimlessly.

"I don't know. We talk a lot, hang out, the usual. He just, he seems to get me. When I'm around him, it feels nice." He says hopelessly and I smile.

"Oh, you've got it bad." I say, smirking when Amyas huffs.

"I do not. It's not even...it's not like that. We're just friends." He says, watching his hands intently.

"Sexy friends." I mutter, grinning when Amyas scowls at me.

"Why don't you ask him out?" I murmur.

"I don't know. I don't want to lose him I guess." He mumbles and I sigh, nodding.

"I'm sure everything will work out, Amyas. Maybe spending a week away will be good for you?" I ask and he nods, spinning his phone in his hands.

"I'm meant to be going to a party with Grey tonight, you wanna come?" I ask and Amyas nods, smiling.

"Definitely."