Author: Anne Marsh
Title: Sound Sequel of sorts to 'Scent'
Rating: no higher than PG
Summary: Josh listens to Sam's voice.
Notes: This time, the sense is sound, and it's Josh's musings on Sam.
Sound by Anne Marsh
Josh leaned back against the wall, by the door, and listened. Sam was addressing the writing staff, going over bits and pieces of the speech they were working on, adding comments, basically doing his job.
And Josh, to be perfectly honest, had other things he could be doing, but none of them compared to listening to Sam run his meeting. The rise and fall of his voice, the passion in it, when he read over certain passages. The little nervous laugh when he tried not to criticize someone else's work, and the obvious pride in his own, that he tried to temper with undeserved humility.
Josh let it sweep him away, let his eyes close, let Sam fill his ears, and limited his whole world to that one indiscribably beautiful, singularly wonderful voice.
He paused, wondering what colour Sam's voice would be, if sounds had colours. Like synesthesia, or whatever it was. A week or so ago, Sam had told him all about it, some people whose brains are wired funny, so that they taste colours and see smells and music is blueberry pie, or something equally strange and interesting. Sam had thought it was fantastic, wished he could just for one day see what it was like. Josh thought it would be too much trouble and confusion, but still, it sounded interesting.
He decided that Sam's voice couldn't have just one colour, it was too rich, too complex. Red, when he's angry, and the blue of his eyes when he's calm, and there are five colours at least in his laugh alone, but Josh heard voices, he didn't see them, so he shrugged the synesthesic comparison off and went back to listening.
He had heard Sam's voice the whole time, even when he hadn't registered any of the words. Sam was becoming more passionate now, had gone 'off-script', Josh could tell without opening his eyes. Sam wasn't reading someone else's contributions, he was just writing, as he went along, the perfect speech, and so Josh focused on some of the words, until a hand reached through the door and yanked him back through, because there were, to be honest, things he could be doing.
As he worked, he heard Sam's voice still.
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