necroslacker | seattle; sunday ft

Some days, Sam just spent all of his time in the music room. Douglas had brought so many terrible things into his life but he couldn't really list the house in that category. He'd grown attached to the weird estate and all of its strange inhabitants over time. And he couldn't deny that having a big house with a music room and a skate ramp in the backyard wasn't a cool thing to have. He knew he was lucky so sometimes he just liked to have those quiet days where he could sit and think and listen.

He'd gone for something jazzy today, turning the volume up and closing the door so he didn't bother anyone else. He didn't even know where James or Frank or Ramon were. The only person he had tabs on today was himself.

And Taco. Because Taco seemed to love the music room just as much as Sam and had curled up on Sam's lap as soon as he'd taken a seat. Though maybe it wasn't the music room that Taco loved but the attention that Sam tended to give him while he was there.

Sam's eyes were closed and his fingers were gently stroking under Taco's chin while the music filled the room. Not bad for a Sunday. Not bad at all.

[NFB but open for all the usual stuff, sure]