Romantic is how Sonic would describe the scene they currently occupied, two lovers opposite the couch but continuing contact with one another even in the smallest of forms. Grasped in both hands; something meaningful an occupation turned hobby for the blue blur. 2 bodies of mahogany on top held taunted strigs of metal, a stroke across allowed the ringing of nestalgia for him. A familial beat he'd start then stop, to lean across and help his mate do the same. Explaining the how and what of strumming the instrument and tuning it. The other remained attentive during the mini lesson, genuinely interested knowing the how of the stringed guitar in hand. Its sound resonating with him as he brushed each cord at random. He could see his lovers fascination with the instrument, understanding the why as to Sonics obsession to play it when under stress or during fits of anger. It was calming, and looking up from his stringing hands he smiled ever so slight at the sight of Sonic relaxed and leaned back against the couch as he strummed his aged guitar, eyes closed as though to get lost in the moment. He paused to listen; too getting caught up in the musical fantasy. This for him was a newfound interest.