We'll Be Fireproof

Chapter Eighteen

 I walk back into Simon's house, a duffle bag slung over my shoulder. "Why is your dad just sitting in the car? He didn't even look at me."

Simon laughs bitterly. "I told him off. I told him- I told him that I'm moving out as soon as school is over."

I look at him, setting the bag on the ground and wrap him in a big hug, my arms around his waist.

"I- I'm proud of you, sweet boy."

He pressing his face into my shoulder and smiles. "Thank you,"

I let him go and press a soft kiss to his temple. "Should we go to your room?"

He nods and slips his hand into mine. I lift up the bag as he pulls me along, up the stairs and down a narrow hall.

"Here we are," he says, opening the door and stepping inside, his hand leaving mine. His walls are dark blue, with soft yellow stars painted on the ceiling. He has a desk covered in dried paint and papers. I am so in love.

"Did you paint those?" i ask, my fingers pointing to the ceiling.

"Yes."

"I- I think it's time for me to show you what's in the bag," I say. I move over to the bed and sit down, resting the bag on the bed next to me. I feel the bed sink and feel Simon's arm brush mine. I smile.

"What is it?" He asks. He sees what i have now resting in my lap and he looks up at me, his lips parted. "Painting supplies?"

"Mhhm. Water colour to be exact. I know how acrylic cracks," I nod. "Give me your arm, baby boy,"

He turns to face me completely and I do the same, both of us sitting with our legs crossed underneath us. He sticks his arm out to me and I set the paints on his bedside table with a bottle of water and an array of brushes. I look up at him and lean forward, kissing his cheek. His face goes red and he smiles.

"What do you want?" I ask, leaning over to the bedside table and put the brushes in the water.

"For what?" He questions, his arm resting on my knee and his eyebrows pulled together.

"You said you like the feeling of paint on your skin. So, what do you want me to paint?"

He breaks out into a grin, "Anything,"