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"YOU NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE HAVE YOU?" Arvin swallows thickly, his breath uneven and his hands shaking. His desperate gaze was on you, innocence sprinkled in his awe filled features. His bottom lip quivered, the tissue dripping wet from your last activity.
"N-No I haven't," Arvin answers, nervousness carving into his bones and stiffening up as you send him your charming and gently smile that left him breathless.
"Don't worry, I'll teach you every step of the way," your voice was like honey, sweet and smooth and Arvin wanted to drink it up.
"Just move your arm like this, that's it Arvin. And... throw!"
The egg cracks against the brick, it continents drooping down the wall and into the white snow. Arvin laughs quietly, trying his hardest to keep the noise a minimum just in case any of Gene's family members were awake at the time.
"Well come one Arvin, I can't do it all myself," you tease the boy, picking up another cold egg and chucking it high and hard. It cracked and dropped down like the last, mixing in the red brick and sticking it up.
Arvin threw his arm back and chucks the small object as hard as he could, grinning like the Cheshire when the thing cracked against one of the many windows.
"Nice aim Russell!" You praised the boy with a laugh while you kept going, trying your best to hit the glass.
The two of you threw about six dozens of eggs at the large house, snickering and laughing back at forth and the yolk ran down. Thrilling excitement was the energy moving through Arvin's veins while the two of you took out the toilet paper for the final touch. He's never done anything like this before in his life, this type of revenge. He was more of a throw-a-punch kind of guy than a egger, but you definitely changed that part of him. This revenge may not get his own hands dirty, but it definitely left him satisfied knowing Gene will be the one to clean up the mess.
You two step back and stare at your piece of art. Egg was all over the place, painting the red brick and wood pillars, glass dripping with yolk. The last bit of touch being toilet paper sticking to the yellow mixture, it was up high and down low, in places that would be impossible to completely clean up without having wings to get to the spots.
"Arvin Russell we have made a beautiful piece of art. We should do this more often if this is how well we go together," you beam at Arvin, throwing your arms over his shoulder from behind. The boy was caught off guard, his hands moving quickly to grab your thighs at they wrap themselves around his hips and squeezed. Butterflies flutter in his stomach at the feel of your warmth pressed against his own, mixing together. Feel your hot breath fan the right side of his face knowing full well that your lips were brushing against the skin.
You really are going to be the death of him. If not tonight, then by the end of the year when you come back and have him fall for you all over again.
