The Soul Painter [completed]

-Chapter Ten-

Location: Central

The night isn't easy, and I don't sleep, but neither does Femi. She stays right beside me on that floor, gazing up at the hearts dancing happily on their strings. She doesn't speak, she doesn't look at me again after that last gesture of sweetness.

We lie there all night long as I talk to her. She's a good listener. 

I tell her about Matt, and about my growing up years, about my mom and how she died, about the man I never met who fathered me, and the way that he read a lot. About how that caused my hatred of reading, and about how music gets on my nerves sometimes. Then my mind spins back to Matt, and I talk about him for a while more. It hurts more than it causes relief, talking. But it also feels good in a way I can't explain.

The hours tick away, I talk, Femi listens, the hearts dance. And the little, red, paper one still holds my best friend's eye. 

Now the morning light begins to show itself in the tiny window high on the wall, and I can't keep my eyes open. Every time I stop dozing and take note of my breathing and heartbeat, they're slower and more even. I know it's only a matter of time before I fall asleep.

Femi rolls onto her stomach and relaxes, closing her eyes. 

"Femi."

She opens them a crack and looks at me, a small smile turning up the one side of her mouth that isn't still buried in her arms. 

"C'mere."

She scoots closer and I throw an arm around her, drawing her and the blanket under her closer until she's pressed tight up against the mountainous wrinkle in the blanket that rests between us.

I lay the side of my head against hers and fall asleep with the sound of her quiet breaths echoing in my ears.

She's still beside me when I wake up, tucked under my arm like a prized thing held close, her head resting on her arms, and her face turned away from me. 

I close my eyes again, trying to ignore any thoughts that magnify the fact that Matt is gone. Or dead. Whichever word you prefer. Pick your poison. 

It's late in the day, I can tell by the color of the light that filters through the window. More of a pink than a white. Even though the sun never shows itself, the clouds still show color sometimes. 

Femi wiggles her shoulders before she rolls over, so close to me that her nose brushes mine. 

I lean my forehead against hers, and try not to notice the sleep on her breath.

Mouths don't have a pleasant smell to them after one sleeps for a while. 

Her silver eyelashes flutter, and then she blinks, yawning.

I hold my breath until it's over, and her eyes focus. 

She smiles sleepily.

"Good afternoon."

I don't know what else to say, and the silence throbs like a sore wound. Matt.

"Thanks for staying with me."

She smiles again, but this time it doesn't linger on her lips like a sweet aftertaste. It melts silently away.

"I don't know what I would do without you."

That smile flits back across her face for a second, right before she nestles her face into my shoulder.

I don't know what you'd do, either.