forum They say art is a key to the soul... // OxO // Gay and Closed

Started March 26, 2020 by @charkieshark

tune

Cyrus glanced up when he saw something move by the window, but when he didn't see anything, went back to playing. After a few more minutes, he left the recording room and headed towards his dorm. He had to put his guitar away, and was also hoping to meet his roommate before class.

As he walked into the room, Cyrus quickly noticed his roommate doing stretches. He didn't want to bother him, so he moved to his side of the room and put his guitar down before greeting Seven. "Uh, hey," he said.

Seven looked up at Cyrus, his eyes practically glaring, though that was how they naturally looked. From what he could remember, Cyrus was the boy whom he had seen playing alone in a practice room. He found it to be kinda weird that he'd just happen to find his roommate to be one of the first people he'd seen that day, though he didn't dwell on it.

He unraveled himself from his stretching position carefully, his muscles feeling looser than before he stretched. He lifted himself from the floor where he was stretching and began walking toward Cyrus slowly, examining the other. His lips pulled down slightly at the ends and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hello…" Seven began slowly, finally training his eyes on those of Cryus. "What's your name..?"

(sorry I haven't responded, I haven't been on here for a while)

Cyrus locked eyes with his roommate, who was staring him down intensely. He shifted on his feet.

"Cyrus," he answered. "And you?"

(It's all good.)

Seven uncrossed his arms to place a hand on each hip. He looked away, exhaling quickly, almost as if he could've been bothered. Just quickly as his gaze wavered, it returned, as sharp and piercing as the first one.

"My name's Seven," he said, his voice not too loud yet awfully flat. He leaned forward slightly, taking in each one of Cyrus's features and examining them what he had believed to be duly. His face seemed to be pulled into a frown as he looked over the other, though his eyes merely seemed uninterested.

He backed up and resumed his stretches carefully. As much as he dreaded the thought of it, he decided to make small talk. He wasn't just going to sit in silence with some random person while he loosened up. The idea alone felt… awkward.

"So," he spoke up, refocusing his gaze from his own legs to Cyrus as he talked, "what'd you get in here for? Art? Music?" Seven inquired even though he already knew, he didn't want to seem creepy or anything for knowing, so he settled on pretending not to until he was supposed to.

Cyrus tried not to look away while Seven examined him. He wanted to say something, but his roommate immediately went back to stretching, and he felt out of place until Seven decided to make small talk. That made it a whole lot easier.

"I thought it was kinda obvious," he said, plopping down on his bed. He gestured to his guitar. "I'm here for music."

(Lol yeah, it's a thing. Just try and work around it I guess)

Seven's brown eyes quickly flashed over to the guitar before returning to the other male. "Interesting," he said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "How long have you been playing?"

As he inquired, he began stretching out his other leg, a few dull pops from his bones could be heard. He chose to finally divert his gaze from the music student and begin surveying the room. The walls were quite plain, painted a simple white colour. The most interesting thing about them were the few chips in them. The room in its entirety was bland, but he supposed it was better than it being poorly put together. Though he had to put up with it. He was going to stay there for the rest of the academic year after all.

(Awesome :) )
Cyrus watched his roommate curiously. "I've been playing since I was eight. Guitar, at least." He answered, still looking at Seven, trying to figure out what he was at the school for. "What're you here for?"

"I here for dance," he replied quietly, lifting himself from his position on the floor. He sat on the edge of his bed carefully, the memory foam sinking with the weight of his small body. "So, what got you into music?" He ran a hand through his thick, black strands and looked around for a moment before retraining his eyes on the other. He decided to pull on a smile so he didn't seem so cold and standoffish. He was going to be with the guy in front of him all year, so he at least wanted to build up a good reputation.

Cyrus nodded, then shrugged at his question, "My parents are music geeks, so I grew up with it," he said, leaning back, "What about you, what got you into dance?"

"My mother, I guess. It wasn't something that I particularly took interest in," he answered, swinging his legs back and forth since they were a bit too sure to touch the ground. "It was kinda just forced onto me, ya know?" His eyes caught on a wall as he looked around the room. "But I guess it's kinda alright. It's kind of fun at the very least. Good for expression, perhaps?" He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "I don't know, man. It just started when I was 11 and was kind of sown onto my back, so to speak."

He put his eyes to motion again, trying to catch sight of a clock, soon finding a digital one that told the time. "Hmm. Classes are about to start," he observed, "it's best I start heading to the dance studios now."

Cyrus was a little taken aback by the change of subject, but let it go quickly. "Yeah, I'd better get to the music rooms," he said, "I'll see you later,"

(Sweet.)

After classes, Seven walked down the halls decorated with pretentious trophies. First-place here, first-place there… and a third-place way in the back. Quite a gilded scenery in Seven's eyes. Soon enough, arrived back to his room and flopped down onto his bed. The soft material welcoming him kindly. He was spent from the day's activities, so lying there and letting his muscling loosen up was just what he needed.

Before he could leave his class, one of his classmates stopped to talk to him about the homework. They ended up talking for a little while, so by the time he got back to his room, it was half an hour after the class ended. "Hey," he greeted Seven as he propped his guitar on the wall. "How were your classes?"

He spoke, but only muffled sounds could be heard, as he was face-first into the mattress. In all honesty, he had been sleeping and the sudden words of the other had woken him up. Though he wasn't as shocked or starled as he was tired. He lifted his head from the mattress, taking in a sharp inhale before speaking again.

"My apologies," he began, "I said that my classes were exhausting. How were yours?" His words were monotone and slightly raspy. He cleared his throat and threw his legs over the side of the bed, raising himself to a sitting position and placing his hands on his thighs.

“They were alright,” Cyrus said, smiling at Seven, “Mostly just introductions, and I’ve already got a bunch of homework.” He flopped onto his back and stared at the roof.

(It's all good lol)

Seven nodded, eyes slightly widened and taken aback by the smile on Cyrus's face. "Yeah, we did introductions too. We also had to do all the ballet positions in front of the class," he chuckled a little between his sentence. "Quite a few people fell on their asses. Though maybe I shouldn't be laughing at it. At least I didn't laugh in their faces."

He stood up and stretched out a little, his words coming out strained as he did so. "Teacher hasn't given me any homework yet though." His eyes wandered about Cyrus, taking in the look of the other male.

"So what do you think of your classmates so far?"

Cyrus laughed a little, looking at the ceiling. "You're lucky," he scrunched his nose, "I don't like doing homework." He looked over at his roommate, shifting his position a little bit, "My classmates are alright, most of them seem nice, but I haven't talked to them much yet. What about yours? Are they nice, even though they fell on their asses?"