Cherry

Chapter 14

Ethan

Cherry isn't shy about showing off her body. Once we stepped into the bathroom, she stripped down in front of me. She's outgoing and bold, which is something I really like about her. I want to be more like her. That was my goal this summer; to let loose and have fun, since I took life so seriously for four years straight. I think what I'm doing right now would count as bold, though. Cherry and I are in the bathroom together, both completely naked as she starts the shower for us.

Once the shower is warm enough, she looks at me and says, "It's ready."

I can't help but look her body up and down as she stands in front of me. Cherry is seriously perfect and I can't peel my eyes off of her. I tell her, "Okay."

She steps in first, and I climb in right after her. She shuts the curtain, causing us to be secluded from the world together. Cherry faces me with her back facing the shower nozzle, allowing the back portion of her body to get soaked. The water that doesn't hit her flies past and hits my body, but she gets the most of it, as her hair is now completely wet and dripping down her body. I find a bottle of her body wash and grab it, pouring a good amount into my hands. I begin to slowly rub Cherry's chest with the soap, then make my way to her breasts. I massage them in a circular motion, almost completely covering them in suds.

"Do friends do this to each other?" I tease as I move my hands away from her boobs to her back.

Cherry looks up at me and smiles as she says, "I guess these friends do."

As I rub Cherry's shoulders with soap and water, she grabs the same bottle of body wash that I used and squeezes some into her hands. She begins to spread the soap all over my chest, making sure she gets every crevasse. Cherry moves her focus from my chest to my arms, massaging them up and down. I move my hands back to her boobs and squeeze them as she continues to rub me. This is the most intimate I've ever been with someone, and I don't think anything will ever compare to his moment.

Her skin is soft and the top of her shoulders is lightly painted with freckles. I've never noticed this small detail about Cherry until now. They aren't that noticeable far away, but up close, they're like sprinkles of paint on a canvas. "I love your body," I express to her. We might be moving fast, but I don't care. Cherry is a fast-paced person, if that makes any sense. She lives her life on the edge and I have the urge to keep up with her.

Cherry and I both look into each other's eyes like we both know what's coming next. She places her arms on top of my shoulders and wraps around me, pulling herself in closer to me. This time, she's the one who leans in first. Her lips crash into mine as my arms wrap around her, filling in any gaps that were between us. I continue to wash her body as we kiss, hearing a few soft sighs release from Cherry's mouth. I know we both came from each other's touch today already, but we can't keep our hands off of each other. We're like two teenagers who just discovered what sex was.

In between our kisses, I can feel her mouth form a smile. She pulls away from my touch and laughs, "It's getting hot in here."

She's right, I didn't even realize it until she brought it up. The warm water has caused the bathroom to become steamy, and Cherry and I are sweating from the temperature.

"I know," I laugh.

So, we finish washing together. We pour shampoo into our hair and scrub. Once we're done, we rinse ourselves off, making sure no soap is left behind. I step out of the shower first with water dripping from my hair. The water falls down my back and onto the floor, causing a mess. I look at Cherry and ask, "Where are your towels?"

"I'll get you one," she says as she climbs out of the shower, shutting the shower curtain behind her. I watch her as she opens a cabinet from under the sink, revealing piles of neatly folded towels. She grabs two, walks over to me, and hands me one. We dry ourselves and Cherry throws on one of her oversized shirts with only underwear underneath. Once we're both dressed, we head back into her room.

"Do you care if I keep painting you?" she asks me.

I smile, and answer, "No. I don't mind." As long as I'm with her, we can do anything. She makes everything exciting.

I go to sit back on the floor, but before I can, she stops me by saying, "Come in bed with me."

"I thought you wanted to paint me?"

"I do," she grabs her art supplies and canvas. She walks to her bed and sits down against her headboard. "I just want to be comfy. The floor was hurting my ass."

"Fair point," I chuckle and walk over to the bed. "Do you want me to sit in front of you since you're painting me?"

"No," she pats the open spot next to her in bed. "I'm just going to paint you from memory. It probably isn't the best idea, though," she chuckles.

I sit down beside her and wrap my arm around her back, my hand falling onto her thigh. "Cherry, you're an amazing artist. I'm sure you could paint anything and it would turn out like a picture."

I can see her grin as she says, "Thank you." She begins to paint eyes on the canvas, unafraid of staining her bedsheets with the colors. Cherry makes art look so easy by effortlessly brushing the paint onto the blank space, making a beautiful creation in only one attempt.

"You should be an art teacher once you're out of college," I suggest, stroking her thigh with my thumb.

"That's actually my plan, because I love art," she laughs, continuing to illustrate the canvas. "Art has helped me in more ways you could imagine. It's like therapy and an escape from reality all bundled up together. It'd be cool if I could teach someone how to do art and how it can help them, you know?" She starts to blush and nervously laugh, and says, "Now that I've said it out loud, I realize I sound silly-"

"No, you don't," I reassure. "I like your plan. "When did you discover painting? You're so talented, you must have started young."

Cherry stops painting for a moment like she's digging for an answer to my question. She sighs, and explains, "When I was little. Way before I got adopted." Now, I see her painting my nose on the canvas.

She told me painting helps her when she's sad, so what happened when she was younger? I don't want to pry on her life, though. Tonight might have been the most she's opened up to me since I've met her, and I don't want to push it. Instead, I say, "I'm not going to interrogate you on your past. That's not my place. But, when you need someone to talk to about it, I'm here."

Cherry looks up from her painting to move her focus onto me. She smiles lightly and says, "I know. Thank you, Ethan." She then places her supplies on the side table next to her, and pushes her painting to the edge of the bed, repositioning herself. She lays down next to me and places her head on my lap to where I can see the side of her face. I don't question it.

"You know, there's a quote I really like that I recently read," I tell her.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"We all resemble the moon. We all have a bright side, yet we also have a dark one," I begin to run my hand through her hair.

She chuckles a little, and says, "That was very poetic of you, Ethan."

I laugh, "I know. I just wanted to know you're not so different from everyone else, Cherry. You shouldn't always feel so alone in a world that was made for you."

She moves her body to where she's facing me, but still rests her head in my lap. She smiles uncontrollably, and asks, "A world made for me, huh?"

"Yep," I move my hand to her thigh and slowly rub. "You're a go-getter, just what the world needs, and you were created to make others happy through painting. You're going to be a great teacher."

Her smile slowly fades as she thanks me. "I'm just a little nervous about employment. It's not easy for art graduates."

I sigh. "I wish I could help."

She laughs in my lap. "There's nothing you can do unless you can magically appear an art job close to my family."

I don't say anything else, all I do is play with her hair as her eyes begin to fall heavy. I don't know if she meant to, but as the minutes go on, she falls asleep on my lap. She trusts me enough to hold her in her sleep. Progress, Cherry. We're making progress.