Finger Painting

[a/n] trigger warning. i don't want anyone else hurting themselves because of this. this story is purely fictional. if you are easily triggered, please don't read this.

FINGER PAINTING

"The sky," Emma said. "It's so..."

"Blue." Christian finished her sentence.

"But it isn't the blue that's usually seen. It's got a pinch of..."

"Black?" Christian knew what she was thinking. He always knew how she felt.

"Yeah, I was going to say that, you know." Emma stated, which made Christian smile, showing his dimples, his lips curled back in a growl, showing his gleaming pearl white teeth.

"I know. Your thoughts are as loud as a wolf's howl." He held her hand.

"It's so dark. I feel like getting lost."

"It's just going to pour." Christian said

"I--I gotta go, Dr. Jill is waiting for me." Emma took away her hand from Christian.

"Paint the sky for me, will you?" Christian asked. Emma nodded before she turned away.

"You seem a little blue today, Emma." Dr. Jill said, arranging all the folders on her desk.

"With a hint of black?"

"Yes, and may I ask why?" Dr. Jill fixed her big, round glasses on her nose.

"I was with him again..."

"And?"

"I'm really afraid."

"Of what?"

"What if we get caught? What will happen to us?"

Dr. Jill gave her the blanket she always uses whenever she comes over. Emma wrapped it around her like a burrito, curling up and resting her chin on her knees.

"You know, Emma," Dr. Jill started. "There are no secrets that cannot be revealed."

"What should I do? I can't just leave him. I--" I love him. Those words couldn't seem to escape from her mouth, well maybe because it didn't seem appropriate.

"You what, dear?" Even if Dr. Jill knew, she still asked. Ever since Emma started talking about Christian, she knew right away she had loved him.

"I... I would rather die." It was half-true. She would rather die than live in a world full of judgment.

Dr. Jill felt the heavy atmosphere, so she started a new topic.

"So what are your plans for today?"

Emma's facade looked lighter when she asked that.

"I'm going to paint the blue-black sky." She looked down–smiled–and looked back up again.

"Is there something to blush about the  sky?" Dr. Jill seemed curious.

"I'm going to give it to him." She blushed again.

"Then why does the sky seem to be sad? Shouldn't it be turquoise blue?"

Emma sat up straight, still wrapped in her blanket. "I want to remind him how I feel whenever he leaves me."

There was a moment of silence in the room.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, doctor." Emma stood up and gave the blanket back to her theraphist.