Vanilla

Chapter 36

"This is my favorite painting I made," Lauren held up a painting to show me. "I made this during a mental breakdown one day and I cried throughout painting this but magically created a good masterpiece."

"Nice, I can really see your emotions on this," I nod, admiring the painting with full interest.

"You should try it. Crying and painting really end with a wonderful nap, which helps you have good dreams."

"I rather stick with crying and listening to music."

"Ugh, so basic," Lauren puts down the painting to pick up another one. She points to it with a smile. "Two words. Raw. Talent."

"I have two words of my own. Erotic. Masterpiece."

"The female anatomy really inspires me to paint stuff like this," Lauren said, feeling proud of herself.

"It suspiciously looks like my body." I stare at the painting. It did look like my body, except there was added fat around the hips.

"It does?" Lauren turns the painting to look at it and looks up at me. "I guess it does."

"I have a good idea. I'll pose for you and you'll paint my body."

"Clothes or no clothes?"

"Which one do you want to do?"

Lauren taps her index finger against her chin and smirks. "No clothes."

I lean over to Lauren. "Cute. Let's do it."

Lauren pushes my face away and laughs. "I'll go borrow a cloth from my mom, wait here."

Lauren gets off the bed and walks out of the room.

She returns after a few minutes holding a cloth in her hands. "Sexy, isn't it?"

I climb off the bed. "You are so weird, give it to me."

Lauren tosses me the cloth. "You can undress in here or are you shy?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm not shy. Just get the canvas before I decide that sleep is more important."

"Strip." Lauren ties her hair up.

"Okay." I stripped out of my clothes and covered myself with the cloth. "I'm naked."

Lauren sits on the stool in front of the canvas. "Pick a pose."

I pick a random pose and flip my hair to look like one of those models from the magazines. "Ready."

Lauren glances at me and bites down on her bottom lip, before dipping her paintbrush into the paint and gliding it across the canvas.

As I stood there, my mind wandered elsewhere.

The world of creativity used to be my aspect, my second nature, my hobby to do after school, but things happened and I stopped.

I never thought of how much I miss painting or drawing, my usual urge to paint subsided at one point, and the fact that Lauren picked up my hobby and loves it.

I am second-guessing my decision of not doing art - maybe the canvas needs my ideas, my hand in creativity, my emotions, and the ideal masterpieces that used to make me feel accomplished after I finished.

When I was younger, I used to draw or paint my grandma while she tended her garden, or painted one of her nurses on their shift, sometimes I would paint my feelings-which usually was depression or dark thoughts.

One painting my grandma kept stashed in her closet was a painting of my mom, she was blurred, and my brushstrokes sloppily created a mini-me beside her. I didn't care much about that art, but grandma kept it-which I found out when I had to clean out her entire house to move out of it.

I keep the art in the storage garage to not throw it away, grandma must've had a reason for keeping it for so long.

Was she hoping I would hop back into the art world?

Did she miss the connection I had with my mom?

Did she miss my mom altogether?

Well, she's dead, so I'll never know the answer.

"Stay still," Lauren said, her eyes glaring at me.

I held in my laugh and apologized. "Sorry Lauren."

Lauren responded with an 'mhm' before continuing with the painting.

I let my eyes wander around her room, and looked up at her window. It was beautiful outside, and perfect for a walk or run.

But I didn't want to go outside, I was not a go-for-a-run-or-a-walk type of girl.

Speaking of going outside, I used to love to paint outside for inspiration-the flowers, the trees, the birds, the clouds, the grass-just everything, in general, was perfect to capture onto the canvas.

It was like an escape from my mind and reality, I was tired mentally of my own name and my existence. I pretended I was okay for the sake of not being sent somewhere for being down all the time, but being happy was hard for me - even as a kid.

The word happiness was foreign to my ears back then, it wasn't anything huge to grab ahold of. Not to me at least.

In my defense, I wasn't trying to be that one depressed kid with no hope of a future and used their mental problem to gain sympathy. I didn't want to drag anyone into my problems like no one wanted to drag me into theirs.

Years felt like centuries when all you wanted to do was bury yourself six feet under to escape what used to be a world to you, but for me-well I couldn't do that even if I wanted to. My grandma was alive and cared for me fully, and I didn't want to hurt her feelings by leaving this earth.

So I pushed through it all, and in the midst of everything-I met Lauren again.

After my head injury and losing my memories, she reappeared in my life like a light that went out but got relit to show me the right way out, and the weird thing is - her signature perfume is what pulled me out of the darkness I was in.

My memories might've been gone, but her scent was always something that I inhaled whenever I needed her comfort.

The vanilla perfume itself doesn't work unless Lauren is wearing it. If she wears it and stands close to me, my whole sad persona disappears and my smile returns like magic.

Her body chemistry is charismatic, her voice can replace music and I would listen to it for hours on end, her eyes are like art-her beautiful soul is captured in her pretty eyes, and only I can see it and stare into them knowing they're reflecting her love for me.

And lastly, her damned body that seems to lure me into an endless session that could be addicting one day, and I wouldn't care-her smooth and soft skin is what I love to touch after a long stressful day.

Someone could tell me she was a drug, and I wouldn't even care-she's the only human being I'll turn into an addict for. I love only her, no other girl or guy is attractive to me, or even comes into my view like she does.

Just because I'm attracted to a girl, doesn't mean all girls are attractive. If they're not Lauren Brooks, then they are irrelevant and don't exist to me.

"Relax your shoulders a bit, Dani. You're kind of stiff there." Lauren pointed her paintbrush in my direction.

I nodded and relaxed my shoulders to her liking.

She continued to finish up the painting, and I just tried my best not to smile like a weirdo. I couldn't help but smile at her.

I love her and she's my savior that saved me when I needed her most.