The Artists' Palette

Chapter 7

We walk back into our cell. Lark flops down on his shelf and lets out a sigh.

"Alone at last, Carrots. Alone at last."

"Lark, I have to tell you something."

"Don't worry about it, hot stuff! I already know my eyes are gorgeous!" He bats them flirtatiously.

"Shut up. It's not about your eyes."

"My hair then? It's quite lovely, I'm aware. Saw some of those workers checking me out, did you?"

"Lark-"

"Don't you worry, sweetheart, I'm all yours."

I blush. "Okay, but-"

"Echoe Thomas. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"LARK-"

"So, Princess, I was thinking that we didn't have a proper kiss earlier, and-"

"LARK, SHUT UP BEFORE I EAT YOU."

He jumps. "Jeez! All you had to do was say something, honey buns."

"Will you stop with the nicknames already?"

"For you? Never, sweet cheeks. Never."

I sigh. "Fine, you loser. But I actually have something important to tell you. So can you be serious for, like, ten minutes?"

"Just because you're so pretty."

My face flushes eighteen different shades of scarlet. Then, I smack him.

"I heard people whispering about us."

"Can you blame them? We are an adorable couple."

"Lark, I will eat you."

"Fine! Calm yourself. What'd they say?"

"That somebody would love to hear about us, and they need people like us."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Yes it is so."

"Who are 'they'?"

"Beats me. That's why I'm asking sir Lark of the Thomas clan."

"I am quite brilliant."

"Yeah, yeah. Now what do you think?"

"Honestly? I love you hun, but I think you're overreacting. I think that they were just talking about the captain."

"They did say his name..."

"See? I think you just want to believe that somebody is going to save us. And I really hate to break it to you, sweets, but we're on our own. We've got each other, and that's it. There's not going to be a knight in shining armor that will rise from the ashes of what once was our town to save us. No secret force hidden within the walls of the Cranium just waiting to rescue two teenagers that defied the law. It's just us." He must have seen the sadness in my face, for he had just completely read my thoughts about everything else. Lark took my fantasies and applied them to the real world, a seemingly recurring theme in my life. It's quite saddening, to tell you the truth. I'd always had my own little world, conjured of magic, where anything and everything is possible. In my head, the good guys always win. It's all black and white in there, and the pure of heart always prevail. But in real life, it's not that simple. Nothing is so clear; nothing is clean cut or evenly divided. It's a trillion shades of gray. I wish it were simple, but that just isn't possible. I suppose it would be boring if the world were that predictable, though, wouldn't it? It's the blurry lines that make it all worthwhile. That's what makes life an adventure. But right now, ripped out of my happy, hopeful, thoughts, it's crushing, this realism.