One post? It never had a chance.
James slid off the bar stool and headed for the stairs, glancing behind him to make sure she was there. He led the way up to his room, suddenly remembering what a mess it was in there... Or maybe it wasn't as bad he was worried about, but he felt a little paranoid about it. He didn't really like everything to be all neat and organized anyway, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd made a bed.
All right, well at least it wasn't horrible. There were four guitar cases in the corner of the room, and one sitting on the unmade bed. That was the acoustic, that he'd been about to pull out to play through the music he'd finished earlier but decided against. There were at least half a dozen books sitting on the table, all dog eared with broken spines and apparently written in and over with various sticky notes poking out from between the pages. There was one crumpled pair of jeans on the floor, but that was all. His trunk was shoved under his bed, mostly out of sight, and his owl cage was by the open window. It was empty, which probably meant Helo was out hunting. Absently, James hoped the bathroom was as clean as this was. But he couldn't really stop an apology from tumbling out of his mouth anyway. “Er, sorry about the mess,” he rubbed the back of his neck a little sheepishly. “Wasn't really expecting to run into...” Into who? The girl that had been randomly appearing in his head for the last six years? “Anyone,” he finished.
Without untying them, James kicked his trainers off and pushing them toward the foot of his bed with his toe before sitting on the full sized, busying himself with pulling the guitar out. When he was more or less situated, he glanced over at her. “None of them transfer brilliantly on the acoustic, but you'll get the idea anyway.” Oh god. And what exactly was he going to play for her? Sneak peek of the new album, right? Christ.