IGNITE

thirty-nine.

‹ 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ›

As it turns out, paint stains.

Which is why my skin was bright red and sore as Piper scrubbed me in the shower, her force unyielding as she wiped away the last remnants of purple paint across my torso.

"Holy god, Piper. Why don't you just skin me at this point?"

Her hand froze, her eyes narrowing, and I swallowed thickly, a shiver running down my spine.

Note to self: Do not piss off a naked, sleep deprived Piper.

Her hands moved again, slower, and her tongue clicked against her teeth. "You can't go to the gallery covered in paint, Greyson. Mr Beaurigard will murder us both. I'm doing you a favour."

"Why are you acting like I'm going to get undressed by Mr Beaurigard? The paint is on my stomach, Piper. He isn't going to see my stomach."

Her lips pulled into a grin, her eyes flashing. "Well, I mean...if the art doesn't sell, someone has to calm him down."

A laugh bubbled in my throat, and she joined in, her giggles filling the small space. "Are you finished yet?"

"Almost," her voice was soft, her fingers trailing the lines of ink across my torso. "Did these hurt?"

My head tipped back, leaning against the shower wall. "A bit. But I've felt worse pain."

"Like what?"

"Like you scrubbing the absolute shit out of me right now."

She rolled her eyes, her palm slapping the center of my chest, and her lips twitched as she shut off the shower. "You're sleeping by yourself tonight, Sunshine."

"Piper," I whined, following her as she stepped out of the shower, her wet, naked body glistening. "I'm kidding!"

She didn't respond, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"You're so mean to me."

"Yeah, yeah, get dressed, Greyson. We're going to be late."

✧

An hour later, Piper was still in her bedroom getting ready for the gallery, and I sat on the couch with Max, Ethan, and Kai—the three guests she had picked to occupy the free tickets.

Ethan had been surprisingly quiet about the entire thing, his eyes shining as he flipped through the pages of one of Piper's old sketchbooks, his expression thoughtful.

Max, on the other hand, was bouncing with excitement, her cheeks flushed. She wore a tight, red dress, her brown hair flowing down her back in loose curls as she sat beside Cyrus, who quietly read his book aloud for her to hear.

Piper had made me wear a black suit with a white pocket square so we could 'secretly match,' as she had put it, still keeping our relationship a secret from the rest of our friends—for some reason.

The clicking of heels had my head snapping up, and my jaw hit the floor as Piper entered the living room, a shy smile tugging at her lips. Her hair was straight and longer than I had ever seen it, flowing down her back and ending mid–way down her torso. She wore the same dress from the boutique, her lips painted a dark red, her eyes outlined with smokey eyeshadow.

I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't fucking breathe.

Piper's cheeks flushed under the weight of my stare, and her voice was quiet as she spoke, her tone soft. "Okay, we're going to head out, now. You guys are free to do whatever you want, just try and stay out of trouble, alright?" Her eyes landed on Cyrus, who's gaze was fixed on the healing scar on her thigh, guilt swirling in his gaze. "Cyrus, it's okay."