This story is part of the Wattpad Creators Program!
••
One sudden horrific moment shifts the entire trajectory of Atlas and Errol's lives, handicapping both young men in ways they could never have expected. A sculptor without his sight, and a piani...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I didn't understand how I kept finding myself in these situations.
It was the door to the studio being opened, that brought me out of my thoughts.
"Jesus, you're completely soaked." Errol spoke, as the sound of pouring rain flooded through the open door, before I heard it swing closed behind him.
I was sitting on one of the main lobby chairs, still shivering as my body hung onto whatever warmth this building still provided.
My teeth were still chattering, but not as terribly as when I was outside. I couldn't even tell how much time had passed between then and now, but I was sure Errol had booked it here. I half expected another artist to be coming through that door from how quick it had been between our phone call, and now.
"Y-You really didn't h-have to come." I got out, shivering from a sudden chill that ran through my goosebumps ridden arms. I heard a few straps move towards me before Errol spoke again.
"Here. Stand up." He instructed. I pulled myself to my feet, struggling to overcome the uncomfortable feeling of soaked overalls. What took me back next, was a few things. First, I felt something warm wrap itself around me, sort of like a shall. The material omitted heat like someone had put a heater on all sides of me. I felt another layer wrap around before some material was tucked in the back to keep it together.
"There you go." Errol spoke quietly, his voice close to my ear. It was so unexpected, I felt my body shudder again. I sort of pulled away, unaware what to do with the sudden proximity... or his signature scent starting to overtake the rest of my senses. "You're lucky I was in the middle of laundry. This blanket is about as hot as it gets." He continued. This time his voice was a bit further, allowing me some space to feel the burrito-like wrapping of a job he did.
Two things were true about this wrap. One being, I couldn't move my arms... and two being that this felt absolutely phenomenal.
Once the heat from the blanket started to settling into the soaked material, I damn near whimpered from the warmth.
"Thank you." I offered him a smile that may or may not have been against my will. I was still trying to hold onto some dignity with this whole ordeal, but my body's reaction to this fresh out the dryer blanket refused my stubbornness.
"Y-Yeah no problem." Errol spoke a bit awkwardly. "Really. I was just going to call you to see if you were still at the studio. I was in the middle of cooking dinner, then was planning to head over after."
"Oh- shit, I'm sorry." I replied, feeling worse that I pulled him away from cooking. Whether I had honestly meant to or not. Errol was the one who was insisting he come after I inevitably told him about the studio losing power.
"Not something you should be apologizing for." I insisted. Now please, can we get out of this spooky dark studio before I actually lose it?" He asked me. I completely forgot it must've been almost pitch black for him in here.
