The Future

Nicknames pt. 3

I swung my bag over my shoulder, moving on the set, trying to stop glancing at my watch.

"Little Red!"

I smiled but kept moving as I heard Scott call me. "Morning, Scooter!" I called, keeping my course set on the trailer.

"David was worried," he said, jogging to my side.

"I just slept in, my alarm was set to 5 pm instead of 5 am," I replied, smiling as you stepping into the trailer, Scott following.

"Why do you get up that early?" he asked, surprise in his voice.

I shrugged, smiling. "I guess growing up I never really had alone time," I explained. "So...I started getting up earlier that I needed to. It gave me the alone time I needed."

"And it just stuck?" Scott asked, smiling at me.

Laughing, I nodded, hanging my red jacket up. "It always did. When I had roommates it was useful."

"No roommates now?" he questioned.

"Nope, just me, myself and I," I told him, getting all the supplies ready for the first scene of the day. "What about you?" I glanced at Scott, who was now sitting comfortably in one of the styling chairs.

"Same here," he replied, smiling. "Just me."

"Scooter! Styles!"

We both looked up as Avi stepped into the trailer, smiling as he saw us both. "There you two are."

"Here we are!" I cried, smiling. He chuckled, nodding out to the set. "Ready?"

"As we'll ever be," Scott replied, standing.

I laughed softly, following him out of the trailer. I tried not to blush as he held out a hand, helping me step down from the trailer. The butterflies in my stomach grew as he smiled at me, squeezing my hand before letting go, following Avi.

-/::\-

I bit my lip, looking closer at the page, letting my pencil flow across the page.

Suddenly, the door to the trailer opened, and I slammed the sketchbook shut, standing as I saw Scott step into the trailer. And as I looked at him, I was caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to stare.

Scott's face, neck, hands, and part of his chest were covered in mud. Dried, caked on mud. And he looked miserable.

But at the same time, he had clean sweats on, and nothing else. No shirt.
And I wanted to stare.

Looking away from his firm chiseled chest, I met his eyes. "Well, you are a mess," I stated.

He nodded, smiling. "I was told you could help?"

"Is that a question or a statement?" I responded, smiling.

Scott chuckled, moving towards me. "Both. Avi did tell me, but I was asking if you could."

"I can," I replied, turning the chair towards him. He let out a sigh of relief, falling into the chair. As I moved towards the drawers to get my washcloths and wipes, he asked, "What's this?"

I turned to see him looking at the sketchbook lying on the counter. "Oh, that's uh.."

"I remember those sketches from when we first met," he stated, looking up at me. "They were fantastic."

Blushing, I moved towards him. "Thank you," I muttered.

"Do you sketch in your free time?" he asked as I took his left hand, wiping away the crusty mud.