When the Artist Touched the Sun

The Sun

We met every day after that- Nico always left at 7:30- when he didn't he came back looking half dead.  

"So, Will. Can you show me where you stay, then?" He asked me one day. I sucked in my breath.  

"I'd rather not." I shuffled my foot around subconsciously.
"Okay." He answered quietly. I knew he wasn't going to push it, but now I felt kinda bad for turning him down so quickly.  I sighed.  

"This way." He smiled, kind of, and followed me as we weaved through alleys and snuck around buildings. 

 "Why are we sneaking?" He whispered as we crept along the side of the apartment building.  

"I have something of a reputation with the police, and I'd rather not get caught." I admitted.  He stifled a laugh.  I pulled him along faster as I noticed a familiar black officer hat.  We swung around the building and we had arrived.  He was panting quietly.  "Welcome home."  I opened my arms to the alley in front of us.  He gaped.  It was a dirty little place.  There was a broken cardboard box that I had opened up to cover my face in the rain, and a ripped blanket that served as a bed.  It wasn't much, but it was enough for me.  I tried for a smile.  He frowned.  

"This is where you live? Really?"  I nodded.  "Oh, boy." He muttered to himself.  "I canT believe I'm doing this because if you get caught we are both dead, but you can't live here.  You're coming home with me."  He was quiet. I gasped.  

"I couldn't do that, this is enough for me."  I was being sincere, but inside I jumped with joy.  Here was this mysterious, reallly cute boy offering to share his home with me when no one else would.  He shook his head, frowning.  

"Come on."  He grumbled, grabbed my sleeve and turned.  I couldn't help but notice the furious red color seeping up his cheeks, though he tried to hide it with his black bangs.  Smiling to myself, I followed.  We went back and I sat behind him on his motorcycle.  We made it to the apartment and I made myself scarce as we went in.  He led me inside his house and up the stairs without being noticed.  Halfway up a voice called and Nico winced, pushing me up the rest of the way.  

"Nico! sei a casa presto oggi." He paused before replying.

"Sì, ho venduto tutto il mio disegni presto oggi."  Then we raced to his room.  

"Who was that?" I whispered. 

"My dad."  He didn't seem anxious to say more and changed the subject. "So, um, you need to clean up.  I have a closet full of clothes I will never wear, so take your pick.  The bathroom is that way. " He directed me to a set of drawers and I opened them.  Brightly colored shirts and shorts lay in neat piles, and I almost laughed imagining them on Nico, though it would be a nice change.  I took out an orange shirt and a pair of cargo shorts that would fit me and left to go get ready.  After a relatively long shower, which felt wonderful after so long, I dried off and slipped on the clothes.  I couldn't even begin to explain how good it felt to be clean and not have hair coated in dirt.  I hadn't realized it had begun to curl around until I dried it and it bounced up.  I left feeling refreshed, and walked in to see Nico on his back, sprawled out on his bed sideways, eyes closed and hands clutching a sketch pad and pencil.  He had black skull headphones over his messy hair.  I silently marveled at him.  He opened one eye to greet me and his expression turned from uninspired to completely in awe.  Then he composed himself and sat up, taking his headphones off. 

"Hey, I'm Will." I joked.

"Woah." He muttered. Then louder and more sarcasticly, "Nice to meet you."  He stood in front of me and blew his hair away from his eyes before remembering himself.  "Right, so. You must be hungry.  I'll be right back." He sped downstairs and returned only moments later with a plate full of food.  I was amazed.  It had been ages since I didn't have to steal for food.  As I ate we talked.  Well, to be fair, I did most of the talking.  He didn't say much.  It was usually that way between us. Before we knew it it was late, and we both grew sleepy.  He stood up. 

"You should sleep.  The bed is yours, I'll take the floor."  He yawned.  

"Nico.  You've done so much for me already.  I can't take your bed, too.  I can sleep on the floor, I'm used to it." 

"Don't worry, I am too."

"What?"

"Nothing. You need a good nights sleep in an actual bed." And with that he went to his closet, pulled out a spare blanket and pillow, and flicked the light off.  I slipped under the sheets of his bed and sighed.  It had been a while since I had a good sleep.  I sunk into the mattress blissfully and watched Nico set his "bed" up.  He lay below me on the ground and closed his eyes.  After a while, I reached down and took his hand.  I waited, fully expecting him to pull away, but he didn't.  I heard his even breathing stagger for a minute before returning to normal.  I can only assume he fell asleep after that, and I did too.   Even though the bed was extremely comfortable, the only warmth I got came from knowing I was holding his hand.  

SUPER BAD CHAPTER GUYS, SORRY!! I WILL UPDATE AGAIN SOON! LOVE YOU ALL, SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!!

XXSAM