Ashley blinked plainly at that arbitrary threat, then looked once more at the wooden instrument in Hunter’s hand.

“I thought you weren’t going to play for me?”

Sitting on his bed with a heavy landing, Hunter sucked his teeth. “Don’t ask questions.” He began to strum the guitar’s strings, wincing at how out of tune the thing was. Ashley gave a little shrug, which Hunter didn’t catch. He remained focused on turning the metal knobs little by little, strumming more until the sound shifted into something decent. It really had been a long time since he played.

Like riding a bike, the techniques he’d learned at some point seemed to come back pretty fast, even if he was still no expert. A forlorn melody filled the room, reflecting emotions Hunter always kept concealed. He unwittingly closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, almost starting to get lost in the music.

And with that, Hunter began to sing.

With widened eyes, Ashley sat across from him, listening. He himself didn’t realize it, but Ashley was doing so intently, drawn into the haunting piece of music that Hunter conjured. The lyrics were from nothing he had heard before and held an unspoken depth, a rawness that spoke volumes. Hunter’s voice, seeping with emotion and vulnerability, echoed through the room, painting a tender picture of what he sang.

As the last note faded, Hunter's fingers stilled on the guitar strings. He glanced up tentatively at Ashley, hints of embarrassment and uncertainty clouding his expression. He’d actually gone through with sharing his secret talent. Now, what did the usually apathetic boy in front of him think about it?  

There was a moment of silence, as the bedroom filled with an indescribable atmosphere. After a small inhale, Ashley started. “Did you write that yourself?”

"I know, it's stupid," Hunter muttered as he placed the guitar aside, his eyes avoiding Ashley's gaze, suddenly feeling way more self-conscious than ever before. “But there. You wanted to hear what I’ve got, so…yeah. That was it.”

With an exhale, Hunter stared at the part of the floor that was visible in the mess. Ashley was taking much longer to share his opinion than he would have liked. Right as he was about to regret opening up that way, Ashley said something that made Hunter feel as though he could be knocked over with a feather.

“…it wasn’t stupid. It was beautiful.” Ashley replied earnestly, his tone soft yet unwavering. "You have a stunning voice, Hunter. Truly."

Hunter blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected such genuine praise, not from Ashley, of all people. A faint glimmer of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“That’s so weird.”

Ashley arched an eyebrow at the other’s statement. “What are you talking about?”

“You complimented me. No sarcasm.” Hunter rose from his bed, and put the guitar back in the obscured corner it usually sat in. “Who are you, and what’ve you done with Ashley?”

The raven-haired teen watched as the other finished securing the instrument, a finger placed at his lips. “What, it’s not ‘Ash’ anymore?”

“Could be, if you want. Or when I feel like using it.” Hunter shrugged. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing some of the randomly loose strands back into place. "By the way…thanks."

Hunter mumbled that uncharacteristic word of gratitude, a sense of vulnerability lingering in his tone. He looked over at Ashley, in a way that a child might look at their parents when they weren’t sure if they were going to be punished or not.

Not quite knowing what to say beyond the obvious, Ashley simply went with a somewhat uncertain sounding, “you’re welcome,” but he meant what he had said.

The sun was setting. It gave the bedroom an enchanting ambiance as golden hues filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on the space. Both boys received some of that beautiful light on their skin and faces, illuminating their eyes as they looked at each other. It was as though the air was now oddly charged, a fleeting sensation neither Hunter nor Ashley could quite place.

It was as though the sun was painting an intimate scene for these two teenagers who, up to this moment, barely got along. They weren’t friends, hell, they didn’t know if they could even be considered acquaintances with how they’d quarreled before. Hunter, feeling the peculiarity of the moment, finally flicked on the room light, disrupting the magical glow. Ashley cleared his throat, the spell momentarily broken. “We should get back to work.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Refocusing on their project, they opened their materials. Time was wasting, so the moment called for increased productivity. Well, as much as Hunter could muster on his end, anyway. Reading page after page about the Industrial Revolution was more boring than watching paint dry. Between carelessly flipping through some of the textbooks and endlessly yawning, Hunter’s eyes eventually trailed off to the boy sitting a few feet away.

He was nowhere near Ashley’s work ethic, and never would be. He already saw how many notes he took down during Mr. Thompson’s lectures, coupled with his fancy way of talking. Ashley was way smarter than him. Hunter absently wondered if he was always like that.

During his current observation, he noticed a few things he hadn’t before. Ashley had this habit of pushing up his glasses every few minutes. He was apparently also left-handed. And, there was this tiny mole on his neck, just below his ear.

Looking at him, Hunter wanted to ask—he’d honestly been curious about it since the first time he met the kid—about where his family was originally from. Ashley had a slightly Asian appearance, but uncommon blue eyes and an American last name, Bennett. He wondered if he was mixed or something. Would it be okay to ask about that? Would he seem like an ass for bringing up race?  What was his family even like? Why couldn’t they work at his house, again?

And why was he asking himself all these questions?

Fuck it, never mind. There was something else he could bring up that was much more fitting to the situation.

“Hey,” Hunter said, almost in a grumble. “It’s not fair, y’know.”

Ashley swiveled a bit in his chair to face him, confused. “What?”

“I showed you mine. Now you gotta show me yours.”

When Ashley slightly grimaced, Hunter shook his head, laughing. He knew exactly how he sounded with that line, and he’d never say it again to another guy, but right now it was worth it. He’d never seen Ashley make a face like that before.

“Not what you think. I mean, I sang for you, something I’ve never done for anyone, just so you know,” Hunter admitted, to which Ashley maintained a look of surprise. “It only makes sense that you’d at least show or tell me a little about your deal, your own embarrassing hobby, or whatever.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup. Now, c’mon. What’ve you got, Ash?”  

At that question, Ashley’s gaze shifted to a heap of clothes in the corner as he contemplated. He appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, eyes reflecting his apparent inner conundrum. Finally, he let out a sigh.

“…I’m not sure if I can tell you. You will probably laugh.”

Hunter straightened up from where he sat on his bed, increasingly intrigued. He knew he wanted to try at least getting this out of the ever mysterious, guarded Ashley.

“Dude, I thought you were gonna laugh at me too, but I still sang, right?”

“I…” Ashley exhaled, wistfully. He played with his fingers a little as he spoke. “Fine. I dance. Particularly ballet.”  

“Oh…alright.” The delinquent couldn't help the snicker that escaped his mouth, finding it slightly amusing. Ballet. It strangely suited him.

The reaction irked Ashley, evident by the subtle tension that crept onto his features. Hunter, recognizing his misstep, decided to quickly pull back on his response to avoid another round of awkwardness. He offered a lopsided grin. “Hey, no judgment here. I mean, that's actually kinda impressive, man. Must take some serious skill.”

Ashley, still feeling a bit defensive, softened at Hunter's attempt to amend the situation. He wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if Hunter just wanted to seem fair since Ashley didn’t laugh at his singing, but regardless, he appreciated it a little. “It's...something I've always loved. I am fully aware that it is not exactly the most conventional hobby.”

“So are you gonna show me, or what?”

“No.”

And just like that, the boy turned away from the now puzzled blond, refocusing on his work. Like the hands of a clock, progressing without fail, he was back to his typical indifferent self. Maintaining that front; that seemed to be his real talent. Hunter squinted at him with disdain first, but then chuckled to himself. Hey, he still got somewhere, didn’t he?

Maybe, if he played his cards right, Ashley would dance for him sometime. Maybe, just maybe, he kind of wanted to see that.

Hunter laid back on his mattress, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

Maybe, it had been another really weird fucking day.