Self-proposed challenge.
Falling back in love with guitar once again.
Build up that repertoire!
Learn 3 songs minimum weekly.
Know how to play each one backward and forward at the end of the month.
Challenge accepted.

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Self-proposed challenge.
Falling back in love with guitar once again.
Build up that repertoire!
Learn 3 songs minimum weekly.
Know how to play each one backward and forward at the end of the month.
Challenge accepted.
Ice Cream
It was hot. Windows were thrown wide open, hot baked winds rolling through the small house slowly. “Get me an ice cream.” She demanded, body stretched across the couch as she stretched an arm out and turned the fan up, groaning at the weak machine’s feeble breeze. He raised an eyebrow, sitting up from his sprawled position on the armchair to look at her. “Why don’t you get me some ice cream?” He questioned, raising a pale eyebrow as he relaxed once more. “I’m just as hot as you are, you know.” “Don’t you love me, Roxas?!” “...don’t you love me? ” “...Please?” Oh, it was that look. He hated when she used that look. She looked all endearing and lovable, like it was absurd he wouldn’t get her an ice cream. She was trying a little too hard, though, it was abnormal now. He gave a smirk for a second, before catching himself and sending a frown across the livingroom, allowing his eyebrows to sink. Pretending was natural for his kind. She faltered. He continued, allowing his lips to twitch lower. His girlfriend sighed, lazily getting off the couch and stalking off to the kitchen, returning shortly with two lovely blue bars. “Thanks.” He gave a grin as fingers wrapped around the cold wooden stick.
Point, Roxas.