Bob Ross is my daddy

Chapter: 3

" Would you like something to eat or drink?" I ask, trying not to look into his eyes. I am honestly disgusted with myself, he's 50 ind i'm 16! I need to control myself, hes so old and i'm so young, it would definitely be wrong even if something did happen, not saying that anything would happen, even if I wanted it to... which I don't, because my dad does a VERY through background search on EVERYONE that comes to my house. Even my friends have to get searched. I think that its embarrassing but my friends didn't mind.

"No thank you. I had a big breakfast before I got here." he said, breaking my train of thought. "So shall we get started then? My father has set up a special room just for us to paint in." I say. I don't like to call my father "Daddy" anymore because its been so sexualized and it makes me uncomfortable. "Yes that will be fine."

When were in the room he looks around. Father bought all of the painting products Bob recommended on getting for me. It was super expensive, I honestly wondered myself why we couldn't just go to Dollar Tree and get some stupid supplies but whatever. "Okay so to get started i'm going to introduce you to the watercolors first." After he was done explaining what everything was called and what it does we started painting. The first thing to do was to paint "Happy Trees" as he called them. It was kind of funny to hear him call them that.

I guess I was doing something wrong because he came over to me and took my hand "Like this" he said moving my hands in a side to side motion instead of the up and down motion i was using. "Oh thanks" I smiled at him, he moved a little bit closer to me. The tension in the air was so thick you could've cut it with a knife. For the longest time we just stood there, in complete silence, not saying anything to one another. we were just painting. Nothing more, nothing less, just painting.

"I never really liked painting after my mother died" I said, not wanting to look into his eyes. "oh really now?, You seem to like painting from what I've seen" he stopped painting and looked at me. I don't know what happened but a big wave of courage blew over me "I think I just like the person teaching me art" and then, without even thinking, I leaned in and kissed him.