\/ Suddenly: MCYT Preferences, Imagines And Oneshots \/

|> ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ, ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ <|Pt. 1 ❤

Song inspo: Moon song, Phoebe Bridgers. Uneven Odds, Sleeping at Last. Stove, LUCY. Chicken tendies, Clinton Kane.
. . .

My fingers trailed the hand rail as I let my feet take step after step up the staircase, my eyes taking the orange hues flooding in through the windows.

My apartment building was tucked in a homely neighborhood, a mix of older homes and brick buildings that lined streets of paved asphalt and trees the popped up every few blocks. I often visited the rooftop, since lately I'd been hearing someone play guitar up there, and one day I couldn't help but listen. I recognized the voice, but I didn't ever dare go out there and bother the man singing. I just sat by the door, watching as the sun would disappear into the shadows of the window, and listening to the smooth and soothing tones of this mysterious man that had started to use the rooftop as his stage for the world.

But today I heard nothing. The tuning of guitar strings echoed from past times, yet as I peeked out the door, I saw no figure, no man holding his guitar as he stared off into the sunset. Whoever he was was always dressed differently every time I saw him sitting up there, the only consistent thing his guitar and melodic voice.

And so I stepped onto the gravel, taking a few steps and feeling the cold breeze brush over my skin, wrapping around my bones. I hadn't come with a jacket- I wasn't planning on being out there for long anyways. I sat down on the ledge, a sigh escaping my lips. Today was my birthday, and my expectations had been let down when I had been hoping to hear another song, as was usual to hear the guitarist practicing nearly every night up on the rooftop of my apartment building.

Maybe I thought his singing would heal my heart.

Nothing particularly bad happened, but not a single person had messaged me happy birthday. Not even one of my family members. It didn't feel great not to be appreciated on the day I came into this earth, but what was I supposed to do? It felt rude to even mention the day since I knew my friends were busy. . . That had to be why they didn't say anything.

It felt stupid to be tearing up, so I gazed upwards, hoping the warm saltwater would sink back behind my eyes. I really didn't want to cry, I was gonna go to Burger King and eat my emotions, so I had to keep myself together for just a little while longer. Upon remembering my plans, I decided it would probably be a good idea to head back inside and bundle up for the drive. It'd also give me a distraction, a chance not to dwell on my thoughts. I stood up, being careful not to tumble over the edge of this 4 story building. My feet pushed against the crumbly ground as I began to walk back, and I could just see the sun touch the horizon, clouds starting to turn orange and pink.

When I opened the door, I yelped, another voice yelping as I did.

A tall man stood in the doorway, a surprised look on his face. He definitely towered over me, but he seemed more proper than intimiadating, and I glanced up at him, wondering who I had nearly bumped into. The sun highlighted all of his features- the soft, gingerbread-colored eyes that rested behind a pair of round glasses, the curls of dark brown swirls that came over his forehead, the cupids bow that was his lips. He wore a multicolored shirt that hid underneath a thick denim jacket, and jeans that led down to a pair of fine looking doc Martin's. A guitar case was slung around his shoulder, the tawny leather strap stretching as he shifted his feet. The orange light that filtered through the thin clouds shone on him, a seemingly shocked smile appearing on his face. The slightest of dimples, barely noticeable, peeked out at the corner of his lips, and just a few freckles were speckled at the edges of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. I felt my face flush though when I realized I was staring at him, like, a lot, studying his face like it was an art piece.