drabbles. nirvana

TEEN SUICIDE. / 14

dave joins kurt's friend group and kurt assumes that he's some fuckboy until the same night they met.

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"you play?" he sat down next to me, pushing his dark hair away from his face as he pulled out a lighter and a cigarette from his jacket's pocket and i shrug and nod curtly.

"yeah."

he hums and lights the cigarette, putting the lighter back on his pocket right after as he took a drag from the freshly lit cigarette.

"how long?" he asks, turns his head away from me and blows the smoke out as he shifts to get comfortable on the worn-out couch, meanwhile the rest of our stupid friend group do god knows what in the room next to mine; the room dave and i are in.

"ever since i was a kid," i shrug.

"was?" he laughs, taking another drag and looking around the small room, probably judging my music taste by looking at the posters and scribbles on my walls.

"i'm older than you," i remind wryly and he smiles.

"right."

and it's silent between us, until i carefully pick at one of the guitar strings to get rid of the irritating silence and the noise from the other room.

"i can kinda play too, actually," he smiles warmly, looking down at the torn stickers on the poor stratocaster. "i've written a few songs but that's about it— i didn't even know what chords were until recently, still don't know any either."

i arch my brows. "you don't know any of the chords? not even a simple a?"

"nope," he giggles. "want me to play for you..?"

my eyes gleaming with hope, i nod, handing the guitar over to him and making sure that the cable was in properly.

and his eyes narrow deep in thought as he carefully strums a few strings until he figures it out. "you're left-handed, huh?"

"no. i only play left-handed cause that's how i learnt it. i write with my right hand," i explain and he hums.

and it's silent once again until his fingers take position and he strums a few strings, slowly forming a strumming pattern as he switches from chord to chord and they all seem so made-up but they all sound so oddly good, i begin doubting his skills for what they really are. a c9, b7, e and a few other chords that he definitely made up.

but he doesn't sing and i understand him; he must think that his voice is stupid or something, just like i do.

"i'm gonna be honest, i thought you were some jock when i first saw you cause krist's friends with a few of those guys," i laugh. "and i thought you were like the asshole type, but you're actually really nice."

"oh come on, is it cause i bleached my hair?" he joked and we both laughed. "i thought you were some delinquent at first, like the quiet rock type but turns out you're really nice too."

i smile. "thank you," i exhale a relieved sigh, my eyes trailing down his features, down the fading bleached blond strands of hair. "your hair looks great, actually. how long have you had it bleached?"

"a few months now. my hair grows out quite fast," he explains. "it's a nice shade of blond i guess, yours is nicer though."

and he takes another drag of the almost completely forgotten cigarette, blowing the smoke out the window behind the small torn couch as i nod and take the guitar from his lap, my fingers brushing over the material of his shirt and jeans just slightly and he's warm compared to my cold hands.

and he looks at me and he starts staring, but i don't think he's aware of it.

not until he speaks, at least.

"okay, i'm definitely blowing my only shot right now but you're not... completely straight, are you?" he inquired hesitantly and my brows furrow in surprise.

so he is an asshole after all, huh.

"i'm not 'completely straight', you got a problem with that?" i glare threateningly and he smiles in exchange, shaking his head.

"that means that i have a chance— somewhat. i've liked you for a while now," he clears up with a huff, blowing out some more smoke after another drag of the cigarette and i begin questioning his sanity— he's brave.

"a chance? as in..?"

"dating you," he laughs. "you're probably the cutest guy in seattle. you're definitely the nicest and most naturally charming one too."

i huff out an unsure laugh and nod. "i could really say the same for you. how about we get to know each other right now and forget about the other guys for a little? we can go down to the kitchen and get something to drink, unless—"

"yeah, yeah. let's go," he smirks and stands up. extinguishing the cigarette on the metal outside of the window sill and dropping the cigarette out the window and as soon as he's done, he's out of the room.

all i do is put the guitar down on the couch, turn the amp off and cautiously follow him down to the kitchen.

he seems sweet but he also seems like the type of person who would play with your feelings so i don't really have a good feeling about this, but i guess it's worth a shot. nobody's been interested in me in a while; not a guy, at least, and nobody's really ever flirted with me— not like him.

he kept dropping the subtlest of hints that he's genuinely interested in me throughout the night and when our friends passed out upstairs, we just kept drinking; really going at it downstairs in the kitchen until we got shit-faced drunk he ended up making out.

not like either of us would remember it tomorrow anyway, we'd have a new chance at this weird relationship of ours when we'd wake up tomorrow.

or so i hope.

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excuse my horrible grammar i'm just really tired lol

word count: 1013