Being Bleu

chapter 5

--------Bleu--------------

Sunlight streamed through my window in a checkered pattern, disrupting my deep sleep. With a groan, I rolled over in my bed, but ran into something. I pried my eyes open to find myself face to face with someone’s chest, tattooed with swirly black ink and song lyrics. With a squeal, I jumped back so I could see who it was, but I had a bad feeling that it was Axel. He was watching me with his usual amused expression through the cloud of cigarette smoke that surrounded his face. I realized then that I wasn’t in my bed. I was in Axel’s huge, fluffy bed, wearing nothing but my bra and panties. I pulled the quilt on his bed up quickly to cover my body. I was pretty sure Axel only had his boxers on, too from the way the sheets settled around his body, but he didn't seem to care. Suddenly, a scary thought passed through my mind.  Oh my god, what happened last night? Why was I lying half-dressed in Axel's overly comfy bed? I could hardly remember anything, just feeling really weird and Brad bawling his eyes out. What had Axel and I done for us to wake up half dressed? I was scared. I could feel my heart pounding faster than normal and my hands trembling under the thick blankets we were wrapped in. Had Axel and I slept together?

“‘Morning, Bunny” Axel said in a low, sleepy voice that sounded almost like a growl. If I wasn’t so scared, I probably would’ve found it hot. At that moment, I wanted to be very far away from that sound.  When I didn’t answer him, he leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head to the side to avoid his lips. His rough cheek scraped against mine and I jumped back. He seriously needed to shave.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching his hand out to grab my arm or something, but I jerked back again. This time, I tumbled off the bed, taking half the sheets with me. I hit my head painfully against the hardwood floor and stars danced before my eyes. Axel cursed from above me and ground his cigarette out on an ashtray. He hopped off the bed, losing the rest of the covers. Yep, he was definitely only wearing boxers. Despite my fear of him, I couldn’t help but notice how the muscles on his stomach rippled and the way one of his tattoos reached from the bottom of his ribcage to the secret place under his flannel boxers. He bent down next to me, every one of his defined muscles taut with aggravation.

“Do you mind telling me what that was about?” he asked me, pulling me from my safe haven under the blankets. I felt extremely exposed to him, standing with hardly anything on. I shivered, but not from the cold. I glanced around the huge room for my clothes. There were paintings everywhere, on the walls and laying on the ground. Paint and different chalk was smeared on the floor. His room was a total disaster and my clothes were hidden somewhere in it.

“Where are my clothes?” I asked snappishly. I was being rude to him, avoiding his touch and gaze because I was scared. I don't know why, but when I got scared or nervous, I let my emotions out in anger. Axel looked surprised that I was acting that way, but pointed wordlessly to the pile of my clothes beside his bed. I hastily put them on with shaky hands, not making eye contact with Axel. I could see his reflection in his flat screen tv, and he didn’t look happy. His arms were crossed over his bare chest and there was another cigarette in his mouth, waiting to be lit.

“Why are you acting so weird, Bleu?” He asked, for once calling me by my real name. It didn’t sound right coming from him, but I wasn’t going to say anything. I didn’t want to talk to him, or even be in the same room as him. I didn’t understand what was going on between us. I’d just met him, so why was I acting like this around him? Why did I like him so much? I wanted to ask him what happened last night, but I was scared. I didn’t want to know the answer. What if it was something terrible?

“I want to go home. Right now, I don’t want to be anywhere near you. I want to be completely alone in my apartment” I rambled on nervously, looking for my shoes. I found them, neatly stacked at the edge of the bed. Axel just stood there with his arms crossed; watching through that annoying cloud of smoke that always seemed to surround his face when he smoked.

“Why?” He asked, sounding a little sad. I wrung my hands nervously and stared at the floor. I wasn't going to tell him how completely afraid I was of him and the way I felt. I hardly understood myself at the moment.

"I just...need to think about things." I whispered. Axel opened his mouth to say something, but I backed out of the room, shaking my head. He called my name as I ran out of the living room, stumbling over Brad who was passed out on the floor. I needed to get out of the house. I could feel the walls closing in and everyone's eyes were on my. I paused with my hand on the doorknob when I saw Lola looking at me. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I remembered what she had said last night. Axel wasn't the hurt one, though. I was always the one who got hurt. Then, I was more scared and confused than anything though. I glanced back at Axel, who was standing in his doorway, still in his boxers. I wrenched the door open and ran out of the house. My bare feet slapped painfully against the boiling hot pavement, but I didn't care. I just needed to get away.

----Axel's pov----

I didn't understand Bleu at all. One minute, she was blushing at me, and wanting to kiss me, but the next, she was hostile. Of course, the second time we'd kissed, she'd been high. I expected Bleu to wake up and be angry about me giving her the blunt, but she'd said nothing about it before she stormed off. She was angry about something else, and I didn't know why. She'd glared at me and put her clothes on with shaky fingers without saying a word. What was going through Bleu's mind at times like this when she was so angry? I had to know, so around lunch time I left for the Square, knowing she'd be there. She'd been there every day for the last couple of months. I'd never spoken to her, but I had noticed her. Who didn't notice the mysterious Bleu? She was beautiful, with blue eyes you could drown in and icy white skin that seemed to be made of the purest snow. Everyone in the square talked about her, but no one actually talked to her. I thought maybe everyone was afraid of her because of the way she seemed so untouchable. I found out when I first spoke to her that Bleu was untouchable. She was a sculpture, chiseled from the finest stone and set in a museum, to look at, but not to touch. Bleu was perfect in every way, from her art, to the way she smiled nervously when someone complimented her. There was something wrong with her, though. I saw through her 'tough chick' facade better than anyone else around her did. I knew that she put on armor so that no one saw how bad she was actually hurting on the inside. I saw, though....

I found her in her usual spot under a shady tree with an easel propped in front of her. Like the first day we officially met, she was wearing heart shaped sunglasses and an annoyed scowl. As I stepped behind her, I could hear music blaring from the headphones in her ears. A sucker stick dangled from her mouth and she'd occasionally take it out with a loud popping sound. My shadow fell over her and she rolled her eyes from behind the lightly tinted sunglasses, knowing I was there.

"Hello, Little Bleu," I murmured once she'd removed her ear buds. I looked over her shoulder at the painting she was working on. It was abstract, a mixture of angry reds and purples, but I could see certain things in it like a person screaming and a stretched out line of piano keys. Not for the first time, I wondered what she was thinking.

"I'm not a child, so don't call me that," She muttered, reminding me of how she'd asked if I thought of her as a child the night before. I sighed and turned away. Why did she have to be so hard to figure out? Bleu was so frustrating to me, yet I still wanted more. I wanted to solve the puzzle that she was. I looked back up at her when I felt a wet drop roll off my hand, which was resting on the arm of her chair. Bleu was crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, lifting her glasses away so I could wipe at the tears. She didn't flinch away like this morning, but leaned into me in a warm embrace.

"I just don't understand. I was scared when I woke up this morning....we didn't do anything did we?" She spoke into my shoulder; her cool breath tickled my neck, making it hard for me to focus on what she was saying. I understood what she was asking, though.

"No, Bleu, we just slept nothing more." I reassured her. When I said that, a lot of tension seemed to leave her shoulders. I pulled her into my lap and rubbed them. Did she really think that I would take advantage of someone as pure as her? If so, she had a lot of trust issues she needed  to work on....