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The morning crips, like the first sip of piping coffee, always burned. But, heat equals passion and who wants a life without passion?
The burns were worth the taste and that taste tiptoed down the tip of her tongue as it peaked from the corner of her lips. Siren eyes, concentrated feverishly on the canvas before her, flickerd away as a woodpecker announced his close position to the sleeping dock.
To the untrained eye she might look like a silly girl practicing a silly hobby at 6:13 in the morning. But to a professional in the arts of her, she was an angel, draped in a sheer robe, giving the world an acrylic form of the chaos in her mind.
"You're too obsessive with these early morning activities. It's weird though, that every time you're out here it's one of the beautiful mornings."
Nailea didn't turn her head from the canvas. "Did you just call me beautiful, John B?"
"I called the morning beautiful."
"You're a sap." she set her brush down and turned to him.
"Just don't let it go to your head." he eyed the huge easel, "I'm gonna end up carrying that thing back to the house, right?"
"Yep." she popped with a tilt.
Extorting big boy muscles was one of Nailea's favorite pastimes. It's not that she hated physical labor—okay, maybe it was—but, she just didn't see the point when there was always a capable and strong person available at her hip.
John B had taken to a hammock outside after helping Nai with her supplies. She offered her company, but he said he only wanted the sunrise and silence. Nailea could understand that. There was a mutual understanding in the Missing Father Club.
Her bare feet padded across the cold, wood floor as she crept back into her room. JJ was laying there, looking like a sculpted statue. He was hugging her pillow with the blankets only covering his hips and down. The morning light kissed his skin through the window above her bed. Patterns of constellations formed in her mind as her eyes traced the refracting splotches of light (that kind of reminded her of fairy footprints, if such things existed) sinking into his shoulder blade from that one cracked corner in her window.
Nai sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through his blonde hair that had been kinked up by sleep. His heavy eyelids rested in peace and spread happiness along her face like butter on bread. She could very clearly see the blonde dusting on his long eyelashes in this lighting.
