I Want To Paint Your Lips

Chapter 10

Delirious moved the paint brush delicately. It slid over the mask with perfect precision, marking out two triangles along the cheek bones and one pointing down on the forehead. His mouth was slightly open as he worked, tongue between his teeth with concentration. His blue eyes hadn’t shifted from the object the moment he’d dipped his brush in red paint.

Ohm was sketching out different body shapes over a large bit of paper, marking in where organs were and where they overlapped. He barely paid attention as his pencil flew across the page, but everything was scarily accurate. Bryce watched as he marked out the placement of kidneys in relevance of the intestine. The light blue eyes were curious and impressed, and Ohm loved the attention.

He couldn’t hide his proud smirk. “I studied medical for a year or two,” he told the boy, making eye contact for a moment without stopping his drawing. Bryce nodded lightly, hearing the words through his blasting music.

Pausing for a moment, Ohm reached around the other side of his caretaker’s head, staring directly into his eyes. Bryce glanced at his lips. Brushing his fingers against the smooth skin of the blonde’s cheek, Ohm leant back and fit the earbud he’d stolen into his own ear with a sly smirk.

Bryce frowned and blinked himself back to earth.

Evan was watching Delirious as he placed the paint brush in the glass of painted water. The little smile on the schizophrenic’s lips. The way he carefully placed the mask aside. The way he instantly began painting on a new piece of card. He watched the image of a face slowly flow from his hand onto the paper, thick paint arching out with shadows and highlights, two eyes half open, brows creased in what looked like worry. The image was far from perfect, slightly out of proportion, too dark in some places, not dark enough in others. But Delirious’ small smile never fell.

The four never spoke, and no one came into the arts room throughout the whole two hours they were there. At one point, Bryce had tugged off Ohm’s bunny ears, fiddling with them and looking over them carefully. He didn’t notice Ohm’s stare, examining the little patched up spaces and parts were the stitching had torn and was messily redone with another colour. The material was worn, but smooth, and the head band they were sewed onto was the same material, thick and padded as to not hurt the wearer.

Cautiously, he slipped them onto his head, the left ear bending at the middle and slightly covering his eye. He crossed his eyes to stare at it and Evan smiled to himself. Bryce was undoubtedly adorable and pleasantly youthful sweet way. He generally seemed to glow, especially when he grinned. Glancing shyly at his patient, he met his watching eyes and laughed at himself. Ohm shook his head with a smile and continued sketching, his bunny ears settled on the table in front of him. He didn’t care to put them on, marking out the figure of what looked like a male child.

Delirious was painting away at his picture, a feminine face with sad eyes and parted, plump lips. She had very tan skin, and long black eyelashes. The liquidity of the white paint used for her eyes was high enough to look like she had tears that refused to drop. The details were imperfect, pretty and simple, although the face was only about as large as his hand.

The mental patient stared at his painting. His eyes were soft, but focused, as they flittered over the page. He examined every detail, each little curve or line. He looked it over, before pushing it up the table and gingerly retrieving his mask. The paint had dried and he gleefully marked out little light circles above the red triangle on the forehead and in the line of a frown below the nose.

Hockey mask.

Evan smiled, leaning back in his chair and grabbing a hole-punch from the shelf behind them. He watched as long, thin fingers pinched and moved the little instrument around the plastic, careful not to straighten out the curved shape.