Reasons To Stay

FIVE

This was a long time coming but here it is... date day chapter! :)

Hope you enjoy it and don't forget to show some love if you do <3

As soon as I saw Lance walking towards my house I stepped outside of it.

"Well, someone seems anxious to get out," Lance said with a teasing tone.

"Yeah, well. Trust me when I tell you that you don't want to get in there if you expect to get out before tomorrow," I replied as I walked to him.

Lance was wearing his trademark jeans, but instead of his usual t-shirts, he was wearing an open blue shirt on top of a light grey t-shirt and the sleeves rolled up. I had to admit he looked good. And I hoped I did, too. After seeing me with the yellow dress on, Trish had insisted that I wear makeup. She had quite a hard time trying to convince me but, as always, her stubborn determination had eventually won me over.

I felt myself blush a little as I finally reached Lance. His deep green eyes had a new tint to them as he examined me, and I knew that new sparkle was because of how I looked.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked when I realized we where just standing there awkwardly.

"Oh, right. Sorry." I could tell he had blushed a little, but I didn't say anything. I did smile, though.

***

"These are beautiful," I whispered, looking around the room.

Lance smiled. "I knew you'd like them."

The room was very dark and the floor was covered in plastic and dry paint, but it somehow provided the images on the walls with a more exclusive feeling.

"How?" I asked as I kept walking around the room, dumbfounded.

"My aunt owns this gallery. She has been working on this exhibition for quite some time. As you can see, she even decided to redecorate," Lance said, still standing in the middle of the room. I had a feeling he was watching me watch the paintings.

"Who did them?" I asked as I stood in front of one painting in particular. The thin gold frame made the little girl inside of it look so fragile and happy. The strokes were so delicate and small that, because of the dim light, I thought in the beginning it was a photograph and not a painting.

"Many local artists. My aunt has a passion for undiscovered talents," he whispered. I heard him walking towards me and I held my breath until he stood right beside me. He was very close, closer than ever before. "Do you want to see my favorite?"

Not really trusting my voice, I nodded.

His left hand slowly slid into my right one and then he began guiding me through aisles and rooms. It was a strange feeling, having a boy's hand intertwined with my own. I may had never actively wished for it before, but I had seen romantic movies and wondered how it would feel like, to have someone holding your hand like that. Someone who was not my sisters or my parents. Someone like Lance. And there he was, hand in mine. It felt good in a strange way. It made my stomach flip a little and my breath go a bit faster than normal.

"Here," he said as we entered a room with what seemed to be white walls and about ten small paintings. "I really hope you won't hate me for this," Lance whispered and then turned on the lights.

The first thing I noticed was that the walls weren't actually white, but a light yellow almost beige color.

"I don't hate yellow that much," I told him, trying very hard to figure out which was the painting he liked so much and that he thought could make me mad. And in what world did that even make sense.