Meggan was quiet whist Jay spoke, looking at hte guitar as he told her about his dad. She shifted, knees against her chest and bare toes in the grass. She was quickly coming to the realisation that her favourite thing was to be outside in the sunshine. She felt so... alive, like she wasn't tired anymore in the light.
The sudden rush of information had Meggan reeling, mind rushing to catch up with what he'd said. It was interesting that the talent had been passed down, she wondered how long it had taken him to be good enough that he could start writing songs, or maybe he'd been able to do it all the time and just needed to learn how to get the songs out of his head.
She shook her head - no - at his question about whether ot not she knew how to play. "I don't think I'd be any good," she commented honestly, "Can you play and talk? Or sing? But talk, maybe, if your song isn't finished yet..."
His question about her room threw her and she hesitate before answering, not seeing the error in the pure honesty of her next statement (as she was just, in her mind, answering a question without looking for sympathy or any kind of comment), "There's someone else in the room," she said, "But it's bigger than any room I've ever had before. There's too much space, I feel like I might get lost, you know?" She was used to a small room in a trailer, locked up there during the day and left to roam at night, but the small space was comforting to her; it was all she had ever known.