Our Long Lost Souls

Three

The drive back to Annika's house in Chris's car was peaceful. Annika watched the world go by, completely oblivious to Chris glancing at her every few minutes. Chris absentmindedly started to strum his fingers against the wheel when Annika turned to look at him.
     "What tune is that?"
     "Hmm?" Chris was pulled out of his retrieve and stopped tapping.
     "That tune, I recognise it from somewhere. What is it?"
     "Oh! I-it wasn't anything, at least not yet." The side of his face twitched up in a smile. "It's just a few notes I've been messing around with for a while now but I can't seem to make it flow."
     "So you're a musician." Annika smiled when a faint blush appeared on Chris's face.
     "Well, not exactly. . ." he took a quick glance towards Annika before looking back towards the road. "I actually work in an office, filing papers, setting up meetings, bitching with friends about the pay and staring at a computer screen eight hours a day. But music let's me escape from the pressures of reality and swim in my own world, ya know? It's the dream, however, at the moment dreams don't pay bills so I'm stuck with normal, boring office work. What about you? What do you do?"
    "I work at a book store and café owned by a crazy Russian family. It's the place to be to watch squabbles unfold with a good book and a slice of cake. I help make specialised coffee and teas as many of the workers can't do them very well. Because of their kindness despite being absolute nutters they give aspiring artists the chance to display their work to be sold and recognised; I have a few pieces upon the walls but nothing mind-blowing."
     "Is that the café called 'The Book Inn' down on Saints Street?"
     "Yes! That's the one!" She grinned widely.
     "I can't say I've ever been there but I'll make a visit or two in the foreseeable future." Chris grinned when Annika blushed. "So, I take it being an artist is your dream that currently cannot pay the bills?"
     "Yeah, I did get the qualifications in Uni but no one at the moment are looking for artists nor are they interested in buying any of my work. . ."
     "What do you specialise in?"
     "Huh?"
     "What do you like working in the most?"
     "Oh! Well I suppose I prefer watercolours to paint with but sometimes I do drift into acrylic and power paints. But when it comes to drawing I don't know; I use both pencils and pastels. The messier the better. And you? What type of music do you specialise in?"
     "Not much, I guess. Just mostly guitar and piano and I think I can sing."
Annika's face lit up. "Sing something for me? Please?" She stuck her bottom lip out expectedly.
Chris huffed, thinking of something to sing. "I heard that you've been self-medicating in the quiet of your room, your suburban tune. And if you need a friend, I'll help you stitch up your wounds. Ohohoho, Ohohoho."
Annika whooped and laughed. "You're really good!"
     "Nah, you're just saying that."
She laughed again and shook her head. "So who taught you how to play?"
     "Guitar or piano?"
     "Both?"
     "My friend Logan taught me how to play guitar along with his brother Declan." Slowly his grin faded into a thin line, his mood turning sombre. "My mum taught me how to play piano when I was younger, we used to sit and create melodies together. That was before Phil came. I guess he didn't like us playing it together." he let out a resentful laugh "He called it 'unruly racket' and a 'waste of space' so we moved it into my room and for our weekly act of defiance we would play together when Phil and his son were out." The corner of his lip twitched.

                                  ~*~

Chris and Annika spent the rest drive home laughing and getting to know each other. Upon arriving on the street Chris grew up on, Annika saw the distinct white of his knuckles when he gripped the wheel. Putting her hand on his forearm he seemed to relax under her touch. They made eye contact for a brief minute before pulling into her drive. There was a police car in Cara's drive and the door was wide open. Chris paled slightly when he glanced at the house he once called home.
     "It'll be alright, I'll be there with you." she soothed Chris's nerves enough to get out of the car. Annika followed after him and came to his side. She gazed up at him, clasping her hand in his and squeezing firmly.

Together, they walked over and knocked. A officer's head popped out from a doorway.
     "Oh, hey?" he moved from the doorway to where they stood. The officer studied Annika for a bit longer than necessary, stopping when Chris pulled her behind him slightly. "Are you that lass that went in search of this dead woman's son? Oh, what was it? Anna? Anne? Ah, Annika isn't it?" He looked intently at her again until her gaze moved towards Chris who looked back at the officer with disdain.
      "And who are you?" he asked rudely.
You could see Chris clench his jaw. "I'm that 'dead woman's son' as you so nicely put it." Chris growled back.
     "Christopher Rivers -"
     "It's Chris."
     "- you are needed at the police station." he said stiffly. He returned his gaze back to Annika and smiled, putting on a kinder tone. "But you, hun, can stay with me if you like."
Chris was nearly growling like a feral dog. "I'm sorry officer but Annika will be coming with me."

Quicker than she could process what happened, Chris had guided her to the car and opened the door for her to get in. Once she was settled with her seatbelt on Chris shut the door and went round to his own, making time to shoot the officer a heated glare. Shutting his door, he quickly reversed and made his way to the station.
     "What was that?" Annika was shocked throughout the whole conversation to even have any input but the way Chris hid her from view. . . well, let's just say she wasn't exactly annoyed by it, judging by the tiny flutters in her stomach. Annika was wary about the feeling, she hadn't felt like this in years, not since her ex.
     "I didn't like the way he was looking at you. Like an object to be used." he spat.
     "Chris, I'm fine and plus I had you there."
     "Hmph" he scowled.
     "Chris," She whined.
     "Alright, alright. So maybe I shouldn't have been so harsh." His scowl fell into a tiny smile.
     "So," She said with a smirk. "Christopher, maybe you should reel it in the snarkyness for the next time we meet him."
Chris groaned at the use of his full name. "It's Chris."
      "Sure thing Christopher."

>>>---------->
The verse is from Missing You by All Time Low. Sorry if any of it is wrong, I haven't had the time to check nor do I have WiFi at home. . . 😢
Also, longest chapter so far 😄