It was one of those days where everything was hazy, distracted, and dazed. You hadn’t moved from your small armchair in the corner of the room and you still clasped the ceramic mug in your hands, even though the tea was long gone. It felt like mere minutes since the tall, gangly boy with his dark, wavy hair sticking out of a snapback had sat in front of you and started to sing in an effort to cheer you up. But it had been hours. Hours of you watching his long, smooth fingers glide effortlessly over the strings and his perfect, pink lips forming sounds that only an angel could make. Every once in awhile, he would look up at you and smile at your dreamy expression, his kind brown eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine happiness. You could spend forever like this and you hoped you would.