Bobby was fairly easy to cohabitate with. With his largely more submissive character in contrast to Himeros, they subsisted within the same body with very little divergence. Although, just like any form of relationship, they bickered about a few things, they generally allowed each other to do as they wished and was even thankful for how the other’s frame of mind affected their own decision. Himeros was hardly a musician, but with Bobby’s skill, he had turned into what his friends call a Steve Wonder Wiz. While they were still distinct individuals, they were gradually merging into one. The transition was, although terribly plodding, smooth. Himeros wouldn’t be surprised if that, within a year, he’d lose himself in Bobby and Bobby would lose himself within him.
He sat down on a patch of bright green grass, tilting back on his elbows and began to idly strum at his guitar. Music calmed him more than anything else could. Even if it was plucking away at random chords, it still served to be one hell of a coping mechanism. With the sun beating down wonderfully on him, he pulled his beanie back just a little and continued to play. But his groove was cut short by a man’s angry cry. Sitting up, he winced and then stood, approaching him at a slow jog. “Rage running? Never knew there was such thing.” He extended his hand and then felt a pang of familiarity. But before he could even mention anything, his shoulder was being shoved back by an inattentive runner. Bobby groaned and extended the other arm towards the runner. “Seriously, dude?”