Alex was always touring, so the second he had a break, you were the first person he called. Finally having some time off, he decided to crash at your place. You’d known each other since you were kids so it was no surprise that he would show up uninvited (but still welcomed by you).

But Alex wasn’t one to stop working. He had meant to take a few weeks to relax — he really did — but after a day or two, he already found himself back on his guitar with a notebook full of lyrics in front of him. You attempted to tell him to take a break, but if you turned your back for a moment, he’d already be holding his guitar again.

During some lazy Sunday afternoon, Alex had finally convinced you to let him teach you a few chords on guitar. He sat in front of you, his calloused fingertips brushing over your hand as he adjusted the placement of your fingers along the fretboard and strings, shifting them to the right notes.

“Now strum,” he instructed you, leaning back slightly to watch your form, with a small, but proud smile on his lips.