The Next Morning
I walked down the long narrow corridor and picked up Ethan's breakfast from the cafeteria downstairs. I made my way upstairs and tiptoed into his room thinking he was still asleep. Instead, he was standing up and had a paint pallet in his hands and a canvas propped up on an art aisle.
I placed his tray of food down on the counter quietly so I wouldn't distract him.
I stood still and watched him paint from afar. He held onto the paintbrush lightly and painted light and dark brush strokes across the plain surface.
He placed his paint pallet down next to him and turned around greeting me with a warm smile.
That beautiful smile, god it made my heart flutter.
"Good morning angel," he turned back around to continue his painting.
"Hi buddy" I smirked.
"You just love friend zoning me huh?" he joked. "My heart is already in enough pain, you don't have to make it any worse."
I pouted and gave him a gentle squeeze from behind, "Sowwy," I said playfully.
I pulled away and watched him continue to paint. I admired all the variety of colors he included in his masterpiece.
"What are you drawing?" I asked curiously.
The painting was very abstract; colors were everywhere, lines criss-crossed each other, and random objects spewed out of the splashes of color.
"It's everything I love," Ethan explained, "my favorite things."
He finished up his painting and pointed to all the objects.
A paintbrush for his love for creating.
A heart for love.
Musical notes for music.
"Tell me more about yourself," he said casually, "What do you love?"
I pursed my lips trying to think of an answer.
"Let's start off simple," he said, "What's your favorite color?"
"You're so basic," I joked, "Blue."
"Everyone says blue is their favorite color, and you're calling me basic," he chuckled, "What about red? Green? Yellow? Orange? Purple? All those colors probably feel so left out."
"Well, blue is a very calm color," I explained, "It reminds me of the ocean, like the ones down by the Bahamas. It's relieving, its soothing, and simple. It's the most me."
"What about purple?" Ethan said, "Purple is like the party color. It's one of my favorites."
He tugged on the fading purple strand in his hair as an example. "Whenever I think of purple, I think of it being very electric. Raves, concerts, parties, they all remind me of the color purple."
"I like purple and its electric feel," I admitted, "But it's not me."
"You must be very boring then," he joked.
"Well," I shrugged, "I kind of am."
He laughed lightly and sat down on the couch beside his bed. He struggled and winced in pain as he did so.
I sat down next to him and he lazily put his arm around me.
"How about yellow then?" he said, "It's such a happy color, you can't not like it."
"I can agree with you on that," I admitted. "Yellow's a happy color. It reminds me of the summer sun and those smiley face emojis in an iPhone. But, I still like blue the most."
He turned his head and we gazed into each others eyes. The sun shining through the big window reflected off of his eyes, making them a little lighter than usual. The stubble growing on his jaw was more visible, and it was clear that he hasn't shaved in a long time.
Everything about this kid is so beautiful, I swear.
"What about red?" He pulled me in closer. "It's the fiery hot color of love. There's no way you can't like that color."
"I-I do I just--" I paused. Our faces were inches away and I felt his hot breath on my lips. I looked up at him and immediately pulled away.
I can't do this.
"You good?" he asked, a disappointed expression grew over his face.
"Y-yeah," I said. "I just don't think I'm ready for all of this."
"No, I understand," he said.
"I don't even know what love is," I admitted, "I've never experienced it, I don't know what to trust or not."
I turned my head and planted a light kiss on his cheek.
"You're a great guy, I just don't know how to handle relationships." I said.
I wasn't scared of Ethan,
I was scared of love.
All the words my father has said to me stuck in my head.
I never even loved that little bitch anyways
It was so long ago, I can't even remember how my father acted towards my mother. Who knows, maybe once I turned my back they would fight--like the way my dad acts towards me today.
3 deep important words.
I love you
They should be used wisely, they shouldn't just be thrown around. Those three simple words have such big meanings behind them, yet it could be the biggest lie that anyone has ever told you in your life. How can you tell if they're speaking the truth?
There was an awkward moment of silence and we both sat there in thought.
"I haven't even gotten my first kiss yet," I admitted breaking the silence, "I'm 16 and I still haven't even gotten my first kiss."
"Well, I'm still a virgin," Ethan laughed.
"I'm still surprised at the fact that you didn't hook up with random girls during your time in high school," I laughed, "I mean, look at you!"
He chuckled and held my fingertips.
"What happened?" he said noticing the bandaid on my finger, "he didn't hurt you again did he?"
"No," I shook my head, "I was cleaning up after him and got a piece of glass stuck in my finger."
Ethan cringed, "Ouch."
He led my fingertips towards his lips and he gently kissed my wound, "better?"
I smiled.
Not bad, maybe I'll give love a shot.
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kinda feel like this chapter was all over the place but whatever lmao
ive honestly been so stressed and overwhelmed with school lately its like not even funny. my skins also been breaking out super badly thanks to it COOL!
luckily thanksgiving break is right around the corner so ill have like a whole week off which probably means... more updating??
anyways i hope yalls enjoyed this chapter and the next one will be out soon :)
PEACCEE
twitter: @/citrusdolan
