Metaphorical Closets

My Body is a Canvas

Scott

We began walking through the heart and lungs of Los Angeles as we made our trek up to the sign. There were moments where we spoke and talked about random things, and then moments where we were silent and took in the nature around us. That's one thing I'm growing to love about Mitch. He accepts my awkward silences while I embrace the sights around me. One of the things I embraced was the little quirks I was learning about him. For example, when he was really focusing on something, he'd cock his head to the right ever so slightly and bring his hand up to his mouth and touch his index finger to his bottom lip and tap a few times. It was a dainty gesture, but it was adorable. I also noticed his habitual hair fixing. He would always smooth his bangs out, with or without looking in his phone to make sure he had tamed the 'stubborn bitch,' as he called it. I sensed that he was self conscious just a bit, but I didn't want to pry.

"Do you want to stop up here for a bit?" We'd been hiking up for about forty-five minutes, and I found a nice clear spot with a great view to sit down and relax. I wasn't sure how much stamina Mitch had for just walking, considering he wasn't much of a nature guy.

"I don't mind. I'm loving this so far." He seemed genuinely happy. I'm glad I found something that he didn't normally do. I discarded my backpack on the ground and sat down, Mitch sitting a few feet away from me. He extended his legs and pushed up the sleeves of his sweater. "Nature is amazing."

"It really is." I inhaled, taking in the fresh air around me. "So, you didn't really grow up as much of a nature boy, huh?" I chuckled.

"Not unless you're referring to Nat King Cole." He smirked.

"There was a boy... a very strange enchanted boy."

"You're well versed." Mitch looked over his shoulder at me, raising his eyebrows. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. The simplest, yet most beautiful lyrics I've ever heard. I learned that song in high school and sang it at one of our jazz themed concerts."

"Oh, you sing?" I'd definitely have to get him to sing for me, considering I sang for him. Granted, it wasn't a planned musical session, but a fun one at least.

"I suppose you can say that. I'd rather produce. I have considered using my voice in my tracks. I've done it once, but never liked the outcome."

"That's doubtful. I'd love to hear it sometime."

He didn't respond with any words, but with an audible hum. "So, is everything with your brother all right?" He didn't skip a beat. Time for bull shit mode. Sorry, Mitch.

"Kyle's fine. He had a flat tire and was late for a meeting, and then needed help picking up his daughter from daycare."

"Your brother lives here in L.A?" Ugh. Not really. I didn't think this through. You're a writer. Keep going.

"He's just here on business. He brought my niece with him though because I haven't seen her in awhile. So, I was helping her out. My sister-in-law is still at home. She decided to stay at home and enjoy some alone time."

"He's probably so grateful for you." Mitch smiled. Crisis averted.

"Well, yeah. I owe him so much for housing me when I was younger. I wouldn't have been able to do it on my own. He had to take a teenager under his wing, and he was only eighteen.. not any better off than me."

"I can only imagine." He brought his knees up close to his chest. "So, I told you my deepest, darkest secret about my Italian heritage. Your turn." He focused on me diligently as if he were studying mg facial features.

"Well. I haven't wanted to tell anyone about this in fear of social anxiety..." I looked down at the ground and pretended to be extremely nervous. "Mitch... I have no eyebrows."