Jeron woke with a start. Again. Somehow something that was supposed to be natural felt uncomfortably foreign. He hadn’t slept in years and now he’d woken up twice. Not only that, he’d managed to dream. He took a deep breath. Getting used to being normal seemed completely abnormal.
“Sy?” he gently shook him. “Sy?”
“Hmmm?” Sylus groaned as he slowly regained consciousness.
“Do you have any hobbies?”
“Hobbies?” he wiped his eyes.
“Y-yeah, what do you do for fun?”
“Jeron? What time is it?”
“Why’s it so important?” Sylus was finally waking up.
“Because I need to know.”
“Uh, well,” he sat up, “I… I really don’t.”
“C’mon, Sy. You collect anything?”
Sylus shook his head.
He bit his lip.
“N-no… I,” Jeron laid back down, “If it wasn’t for my mum, I’d be the same.”
“I-I just… never really had time to think about doing anything for, well, fun.”
“Well… What would you like to do?”
“What are my options?”
“Anything you want.”
“Well, uh… Daniel already writes and draws. Saari is a sculptor. You’re a musician…” Sylus shrugged, “Looks like all the positions are taken up.”
“Th-that’s not how a hobby works, Sy. It’s not a job. It’s doing something because you want to. Because it makes you happy. ‘Something we create from the fabric of our soul’, like you said.”
“Like I said?” Sylus winced.
“Y-y… n-no. Sorry. I just had a dream…”
“I was in it?”
“Was I as handsome as I am in person?”
Jeron snorted, “The real thing is always better.”
“Warming up to me, then, are you?”
“You could say that,” Jeron closed his eyes.
“I suppose I’m at the point in my life where I could try to do something for fun… But… Ya know, there’s a war or something on the horizon. Might not have much time to mess around.”
“Well… Maybe you could pick up something that could help fight?”
Sylus scoffed, “Like what?”
“Metalwork, chainmaille, heck even whittling could make a spear!”
Sylus snorted, “You think I’m even remotely capable of making anything useful?”
“I do. I know you are.”
Sylus rolled his eyes.
“We’ll figure it out,” Jeron rolled over, resting his head on Sylus’ shoulder and throwing an arm over his stomach. “I’ll help however I can.”
“And why are you so suddenly dead set on finding me a hobby?” he chuckled.
“Because you need one,” Jeron grinned from ear to ear.
“Because it’ll help.”
“I haven’t seen or heard you playing recently…”
“And that’s going to change.”
“Yup. I’m gonna go get my guitar and play it until you hate it.”
“I’ll never hate it, Jer. I love music. Just never been the type to create it.”
“What about sing?”
“Jeron? Do you hear the pitch of my voice? You think I could sing?”
“Deep, a bit gravely… Probably a baritone.”
“Come on now…”
“Just need practice. Can’t expect perfection on your first try!”
“And who in this universe would ever want to hear me sing?”
“Well… I would.”
“Yeah, sure! I’ve got a thing for bass. Kinda wanna pick up bass guitar but I already play classical so…”
“Is this a not-so-subtle nudge toward getting me to play an instrument? Look at these fingers! They’re hardly agile.”
“I mean, maybe not, but you’ve got tentacles and shit. But no. I’m not suggesting you pick up an instrument unless that’s what you want to do.”
“There has to be something you love, Sy.”
Sylus turned to face him, confused about how to respond. He wracked his brain for his preferences. What did he like? Love? His family. That was enough wasn’t it? That was all he needed. He didn’t need anything else in his life.
“I love you and Daniel.”
“That’s not what I meant, Sy…”
“I guess I just really don’t understand what you’re looking for.”
“A passion, a drive…”
“You and Daniel?”
“I-” Jeron sighed, “Something that you love because it’s yours or because it brings you an extra sense of joy.”
Sylus thought a moment.
“It’s a personal joy. One you could share with other people, but you don’t have to to enjoy it. Like I said before, things like knitting or whittling. Something you do for your own enjoyment. It doesn’t have to have a productive side to it either. As long as it makes you happy.”
“It’s okay to be happy just for the sake of being happy.”
“Does that mean you’ll be bringing music back into our lives?” Sylus chuckled.
“Hell yeah. Next time I head over to the Diner I’m grabbing the ol’ guitar and I’m gonna play all day and all night until you get tired of it.”
“I’ll never get tired of it,” Sylus rolled over, wrapping his arms around Jeron again, “Never.”
“You say that now, but wait until its 24/7. Ya might change your mind.”
“Doubt it,” Sylus grinned. “I want to hear you play and sing with all your heart.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”