Paint Me A Better Life

Chapter Seven

Tobias's POV

It's an odd sensation, when something that used to always bring you such a rush and made your view of life better, suddenly doesn't anymore.

That's what I'm experiencing for the first time today. The usual relief I get from being high, being able to escape my life, is missing. For the first time, it's not the joint I smoke or the vodka I chug that makes me feel as though I've escaped my life for even a second. But Tris's painting. I've had it now for a few days, and in those few days most of my time has been spent getting lost in the beauty and the brush strokes. Everything about the picture painted on the canvas reminds me of her.

Bringing the smooth glass rim of the open bottle to my lips, I tilt my head back. Allowing the clear liquid to run down and burn my throat as blue swirls before my eyes. Setting the half empty bottle on the floor, a knock on the door captures my attention. Looking up slowly, having to drag my eyes away from her artwork, I spot Zeke standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" He asks, his hands causally tucked into his jean pockets.

Shrugging, I look back at the painting.

"You've hardly moved from that spot for the last three days. Only to get a new bottle, use the restroom or to light a joint outside since Shauna hates the smell in her house." Zeke says, and hearing his shoes against the floor I know he's walking closer to me.

"What's so special about this painting?"

Silence settles over us in the room, but the answer I keep to myself has never spoke louder.

What's so special about this painting? Everything.

"That girl at the hospital," Zeke suddenly says, breaking the silence. "the one who was there when you got beat to a pulp. She made this, didn't she?"

Hesitantly, I look back at Zeke who sits behind me on the edge of the couch. "Tris."

"Tris made this for you?" He questions and I nod just enough for him to see.

Silence touches us once more, and the quiet makes me fall head first into her painting. Everything about it emboldened in the quiet.

Zeke nods his head slightly, and I can see the way his lips curve upward softly. "You like this girl Eaton, I can see it."

Shaking my head, I turn my eyes away from Zeke and let them fall back onto Tris's painting. Letting the mixing shades rush over me, drowning me under the waves.

"We're friends... I think." I tell him quietly.

"I've never seen you act this way over just some friend."

Swallowing, I take a deep breath. "We're friends Zeke. We can't be more."

No matter how badly I may want us to become more some day.

"Why do you say that?"

Raking a hand through my hair that has been long over due for a shower, I release a sigh. "I'm a drunk. I'm an addict. I'm a street fighter. One way or another, she's going to get hurt by my actions. She's not cut out for my life, I don't want to bring her further into it than she needs to be."

"Maybe it's time to change your life around a bit, so that you don't have to choose."

Snapping my head around, I stare at Zeke. His face is serious now, and his eyes look to me with concern and sympathy.

"Look at yourself these past few days Tobias. Sure you're still drinking vodka by the bottle and popping pills, but you're not going out of your way to get high or drunk like you used to."

"You're only doing it because your body thinks it has to. You're drinking because you don't know what else to do. You're taking pills and smoking joints to get by, because you don't want to leave this painting to go see Lexi. And last night, you missed your fight." Zeke says, and I realize I had completely forgotten about the fight. Something I've never done before in my life.

"You don't need that shit. The booze, the pills, the drugs. You don't need any of it. And maybe this painting, is the thing to get you to finally see that."

"What do you mean?" I ask him softly.

"What do I mean? I mean, you'd rather sit here staring into a canvas for three days straight than leave it to go score. That's got to mean something, doesn't it man?"

I had never quite looked at it like that before.

"This painting and the girl who gave it to you," Zeke shakes his head. "You need them in your life. Not all this other crap."

"She's not going to want me."

Zeke lets out a chuckle, "Yeah, probably not. Nobody really wants a druggie or an alcoholic. That's why you got to be the person to make the first move. Get clean. Get sober, get better. For me, for Shauna. For yourself and for her."

Swallowing the emotion lumping in my throat, I stare at him. "I don't want this anymore."

Zeke knows what I mean as I pick up the vodka bottle. "I know you don't."

"But I don't know how to stop."

"You're not doing it on your own. I'm here, and Shauna's here. And Tris," My head lifts at her name. "you call her and tell her what's going on, and I guarantee you that she'll be there for you. She stayed at the hospital for you, didn't she?"

"You need this girl Tobias. She's your escape. She's your way out of this. And I won't sit by and watch you let her slip through your fingers."

Zeke stands and reaching for the end table, he grabs my phone. "Give me that bottle, and call her."

And for the first time, I handed Zeke the bottle with liquor still in it.

A/N: Hey all! I know, I know. It's been wayyyyy too long, and I can't apologize enough to you all! I pushed hard to write this chapter, and although it may not be the longest, I hope you all enjoyed it. You all deserved a chapter. You've been patient, and encouraging and I can't thank you enough for the support on this book. I hope for more frequent updates, but sadly I can't promise that. I will honestly try my hardest, but I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and that it is enough until the next!💛