Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

handed it to Sinn.
    Sinn smoothed a hand over the satiny wood. "Nice." He fiddled with the strings for a bit, tuned it to his ear, then turned back to the lyrics.
    Will grabbed the tray from the drafting table and carried it over to the bed. Then he turned away to pick up his camera. Quietly, and from different angles he starting taking photos of Sinn while he worked.
    Sinn grabbed a croissant and absently tore it apart and stuffed pieces into his mouth as he turned to composing. Will caught one shot of him when his eyes lit up with a triumphant expression. Another in focused and deep concentration. Several as he strummed the guitar, his focus more internal than external.
    Will was fascinated. He lost track of time until finally Sinn glanced up, he set the guitar aside, his eyes focused on Will.
    "This is your fault," he said.
    "Mine?" Will set his camera aside.
    "I've struggled with the words for so long, but now they're just there, like they used to be a long time ago."
    "But you've written in recent years. Your last album–the lyrics were yours."
    "Did you listen to them?" Sinn asked quietly. "Did you read them?"
    Will nodded. "Yes. 'Lost in LA' is the one that got me digging into your past. It was about you, wasn't it."
    "I thought it would help if I got it out. But it didn't. All it did was open the past and made me even more frustrated and bitter."
    "Is that when you wrote 'Cut You Deep'?" Will had felt the anger pulsing in those songs. Just listening to them, the jarring impact, the hate emanating from them. He knew it was personal.
    "I couldn't seem to write anything else. Every time I tried to put words down the only emotion that came out was hate. But it was never enough to drain it, only to fuel more of it."
    "And the song you just wrote down?"
    "It's different. Nothing like that last album. I don't know what you did to me, but I'm free. Not fractured anymore."
    Will couldn't help it, the hope flared in his heart. He went to Sinn, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad. You have a gift Sinn, it shouldn't be wasted."
    Sinn looked up at him, a strange expression on his face, a growing tension in his demeanor. "Are you going to sell those pictures you took?"
    Shocked, Will stepped back and stared at Sinn in open astonishment. Sinn's question had blind-sided him. "Sell them?"
    A certain jaded look came back into Sinn's eyes. The same look Will had seen the night before at the club. Was it all over with then? He had hoped, but maybe there was no going back. Nor forward either.
    Suddenly, Will lost it. "Damn you! After everything we've shared, you ask me that. No. They're not for sale. If you want, I'll wipe the card clean right now if that's what you think. I won't ever take another picture of you again. But I'd hope you'd know you could trust me. Especially after last night."
    He picked up the camera. Opened the panel and yanked out the card. Sinn's arm shot out and he covered Will's hand with his own. He knelt up on the bed, papers scattering and he kissed Will. All the anger melted away at the touch of Sinn's lips on his.
    ****
    Sinn had come so close to falling back into the easy, yet suspicious mold he grooved for himself over the last few years. But Will didn't fit into any mold and he should have realized that. It was hard to accept that things had changed. One night, between one day and the next, had altered everything. One man had changed everything.
    "I don't want you to destroy them. I don't know who you see through your lens and maybe I'm afraid to find out. You have a gift–more than one. Yours seems gentler than mine in some ways. Even the way I let you dominate me. It's not the same as anything I've ever experienced before. You make me want to be a better man–a different man. But I don't know–it scares me. All of this emotion that's inside me now–I'm not used to it and I don't know what to do with it."
    "You just did something with it, didn't you?" Will glanced off to the scattered papers on the bed.
    "Yeah, I guess I did. Somehow I've got clarity back."
    He looked back at Will, directly into his eyes, searching–but he wasn't quite sure what he was searching for. What answer he expected to find. He felt a certain tenseness in Will.
    "What is it?" he asked.
    "Is this a one-night stand to you?" Will asked. He stepped away from Sinn and turned his back. "Are you leaving now, never looking back? Are you going to treat this all just like any other fanboy interlude?"
    "Do you want