Every Second [COMPLETED]

Chapter 17 - "Do you want to throw on a shirt and we can get working?"

A week later Amelia hadn't heard from Sebastian, and so she found herself across the street from his building. She stared up at it with a troubled expression. The bare trees sent crawling shadows over the sidewalk at her feet, wriggling as a fierce wind made them shiver. Shoving her fists into her coat's pockets, she forced her feet forward.

She gave Sebastian's door a rapid knock and stepped back. Sebastian opened the door in the same state as the other day. He blinked and the storm of emotions in his eyes cleared slightly.

"Hey," Amelia said.

"Amelia..." Sebastian said, his eyes focusing on her.

"I didn't know if you wanted to work today?"

"I don't-" Sebastian started to say, but stopped as he rubbed his eyes.

"I figured out the bridge of the song. I think you would really like it," Amelia cut in.

His eyes locked on her, the pain vanishing from his face for a split second.   

"Unfortunately, I won't be able to stay very long today. I have an engagement I need to keep," Amelia lied, with an apologetic tone.

She had decided to tell him this, knowing a shorter work day might entice him into agreeing.

He looked at her for a long moment then nodded slowly. He shuffled back and Amelia moved into the apartment. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. Food containers littered the floor. Chards of broken plates paraded around the kitchen.   

"Do you want to throw on a shirt and we can get working?" Amelia asked.

Sebastian looked down at himself and back at her, clarity darting in his eyes.

"I could actually use a minute to myself to think over the bridge. So you don't have to rush," Amelia lied.

"I'll just be a minute," he said, his voice sounding close to normal.

He trudged to his room and disappeared for a moment before reappearing, clothes clutched in his arms. Amelia set the kettle on the stove and grabbed a trash bag.

When Sebastian walked into the music room, fifteen minutes later, Amelia was settled on the couch, hands wrapped around a warm mug. He paused a few feet inside the door, confusion set into his features. He looked at her, then out the door.

"Sorry about your apartment, I have a weird need to clean when I'm thinking about music. I hope you don't mind," Amelia lied.

"It's fine," he said, still looking puzzled.

"I brought you a cup if you want some tea. I felt a little cold and decided to make a pot."

This was also a lie. Tea was one of things her mother had made for her when she had had a rough day, so this had been her motivation for making it.

"Thanks," Sebastian said.

Amelia nodded. Finishing off the last of her tea, she stood and collected Sebastian's guitar.

"Do you mind playing the song. I want to make sure I have the timing right for the bridge," Amelia said.

Sebastian took the instrument, the feel of the curve of wood against his leg, seemed to ease some of the tension in his body.

"We were working on A Hand Full of Hope," Amelia said.

Sebastian nodded. His fingers shifted and he strummed, the sound clearing some of the pain in his eyes.

Amelia  spent the next hour watching Sebastian, gauging his thoughts and reactions. She found herself repeating questions twice and waiting as long pauses stretched between them.