Racing into the night

Three

After always avoiding the deep stories which could expose her thought and self he still was coming by every day, bringing her snacks, food, drinks and everything possible but at the end of the every day she barely even touched anything.

"I'm not hungry" was always the reason and excuse, to him it was more than that, more mental than just random I'm not hungry and I just wanna immerse myself in this painting.

Days passed, leading to weeks and weeks leading to a month. One day while he was studying next to her as she drew he fell asleep which made her stop drawing and just look at him.

She hated to admit it even to herself but this boy was stunning, beautiful, painting worthy. Maybe she would use his face in the future for one of her paintings but she's not so sure yet.

What feeling would she be able to express through his face? Obsession? Possession? Maybe attachment? Maybe attraction? Maybe ... love..? At the thought of love she blushed hard, dropping the brush on the ground and shaking her head violently, trying to get her thoughts out as soon as possible.

When the boy woke up it was way past midnight, covered in blanket and some hand warmers, keeping him warm and cozy as she still sat there with her hoodie on drawing violently as she took all her anger out on the poor canvas. He looked around not making much noise or movement, simply adoring the city lights that brightened the streets and even reached the tops of the skyscrapers.

"It's beautiful" He whispered as he yawned, trying to move as little as possible since he lived the position he was in

"Yeah, it is"

"Do you always draw till this time? Don't you get tired of just you know, drawing?"

"I'm sick of it but it keeps me alive."

"What do you mean" boy was confused upon her words to which she simply sighed and went to the railings and sat down while putting her legs out of it, they boy did the same as he shared the blanket he was wrapped in, keeping her warm as well

Maybe I'm ready now, we've talked about some stuff here and there and he was always here, keeping me company which must have been really boring as well as all the treats he brings me but ... I don't feel nervous around him anymore and I can also look into his eyes, make eye contact with another person for the time... maybe it's not as bad to share my part with him?

Her thoughts were running crazy and he noticed, smiling softly to himself as he just touched a finger of hers, making her snap out of the thinking and lock her eyes with him, slowly looking away and watching over the cars that speeded through empty streets of city

"I'm sick of drawing. It's as simple as that. Yeah I know what you wanna ask. Then why do I keep drawing?" Breathing, maybe also pondering on the question while searching for the correct answers and words "I started drawing when I was really young to the point I couldn't even write let alone read or speak normally. It just runs in my family. My mother adored this talent of mine and it was the only reason why I kept going on. After her death due to health problems I stopped drawing but I went crazy. I was never able to convey my thoughts into words let alone communicate with at ease with words. Due to so many inconveniences and miscommunications I ended up with many broken friendships leaving me all desperate in the dark hole that why I started drawing again. Because even if no one understands what I'm saying the white canvass does. My brush does as well... this story may be really stupid and childlike but I never really grew up to the point to be an adult. I was always left alone to grow and never really knew how to. My life may not have been that hard but here I am. Drawing it out."

"But it doesn't explain why you are sick of it" He whispered as he kept staring at her, trying to understand her and her thoughts

"Oh umm.. they are just waste of time but I don't know what to do else, they make me lose myself and lose track of my feelings and all"

"Because you are feeling too much and you want to convey all of it"

"Maybe" and she laughed as she looked away, looking as beautiful as ever even though her hair was held up by brushes and half her skin was dotted like a Dalmatian with different colors

"You need to go"

"What about you"

"I can still draw some more"

"Not sleepy?"

"What's sleep" she chuckled and got up, grabbing a snack he brought earlier "I don't sleep much, 1 hour a day is more than enough for me"

"Insomnia?"

"Yeah, for years already, got used to it pretty quickly, for some reason I wanna believe that it helps me live more and see more idk"

"Makes sense since a person spends 1/3 of their life sleeping you won't even spend a half" he chuckled to his lame joke and grabbed a jacket "anything specific you want me to bring you tomorrow?"

"Umm can I please have cherry juice? I really love those. Just that"

"Sure. No problem. See you tomorrow " he smiled brightly as he waved and disappeared behind the doors, however she couldn't stop thinking about the talk she gave. Did she talk too much about herself? Did she overshare? These thoughts killed her so much that unconsciously she started drawing about them. About the fear of have had over shared with people. Close or strangers doesn't matter. The idea just killed her.

Next day when he came with the cherry juice and handed it to her he saw the painting and swiftly frowned

"This isn't about yesterday I hope."

However she stayed mute as she just added some touch ups

"Listen okay? Even if you don't look at me listen. You didn't overshare and it's perfectly normal to open up with people once you are close to them. You didn't seek no attention nor shared too much. If that small story opened you up and there's nothing else in you that I can know about that you should be really boring person. I can tell you more about my life that you will ever talk, I can spill every detail of my life and not even think that I overshared. Because I know in the moment I enjoyed showing you myself and talking to you. So please don't feel anxious about it."

She had tears in her eyes the moment he finished talking. At first he just wiped them with a tissue he had on him but as she extended her hands he knew he had to hug her and embrace her, showing that she can truly trust him with no worries. Maybe this is what created a bond between them and connected two souls. Two beautiful broken souls who found each other.