Someday The Waves ✔ *Wattys15 Winner*

Chapter Nine

Which will you go for? Which will you love,

Which will you choose , from the stars above?

Which Will - N.Drake

. . .

"I don't really know many songs, I just play bits here and there." Noah had modestly told me as I watched him delicately pick the strings on a battered guitar, his head bowed tentatively.

Sitting crossed legged on his unmade bed and admiring his timid playing, I thought about how surreal the day had been.

In retrospect, anything would was been an improvement and welcome change to my days spent alone courting boredom, yet I hadn't quite predicted the fact I would end the evening sitting in his room, admiring the way he played and how lovely it was.

If only all my days could end the same way.

Noah had after some persuading on my part, agreed to play me something on the guitar that rested against his desk. He told me that he hadn't picked it up in a while and apologised in his words for 'likely messing it up all'.

Twisting the pegs and gently tuning the strings lower, with his ear dropped down as he did so, I'd crossed my legs and patiently waited for him to begin.

Leaning against the large window pane, he'd nervously told me how he knew one song to play, one that he'd learnt in an effort to apparently avoid having to play Amazing Grace every day, during a stint at a church summer camp a few years ago.

With a shy smile escaping his lips, he'd mumbled that he hadn't played in front of anyone in a while and how I'd likely be disappointed.

He'd been wrong though because with every gentle strum he stole away my ability to breath and captivated my attention to the point where as he finished, I asked him to play another.

I liked the way his face twisted, lost in concentration and the rhythm and how he unconsciously bit his bottom lip as he played.

As each note swirled and overlapped into the next, I watched him become more confident, playing a little louder, a little faster and eventually with a smile on his face.

Jokingly he bowed when he'd finished and quickly put the guitar back in its place, his cheeks lightly flushed.

He joined me on the unmade bed perching cautiously on the edge of it, propping himself up against the cushions that were scattered between us. It was only then I'd become aware of just how comfortable I'd made myself on his sheets.

Although it hadn't surprised me that I'd felt more at home, in his room and on his bed than I did in my own. When he'd shown me in, switching on a small bed lamp and the paper light lanterns that hung across shelves stacked with books, I'd found myself admiring just how, Noah it all was.

Flannel shirts were neatly folded over a wooden chair in the corner of the small room, and posters stuck to the walls - of obscure bands I'd not recognised or heard before. A pair of worn out trainers sat underneath the window seal and a tiny potted cactus on top of it.

Lost in admiring all his possessions and the place he called home, Noah softly snapped me out of my daze and apologised for the messy state of the bed.

"As you can see I forgot to make it this morning, because I wasn't expecting anyone to uh, be here." he mumbled, a shy smile escaping his lips as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. Something I noticed he did a lot.