Who Names The Colors

Danae

January 2015

She didn't go right then. Like, Jo didn't drop the note that was sexier than any pornography she'd ever seen on her countertop and get in her car and drive to Harry's apartment immediately.

She could have, Zoe was safe and cared for and she probably could have. The desire to drop everything to run and be the flavor in his cup, or the caress on his skin, or even the backbeat of his radio was strong. It muscled her into an evening of distraction. Luckily, she was used to having something on the back of her mind while she was busy doing other tasks.

Zoe was cute and in a cuddly mood when she picked her up. She threw herself on the floor only once when her favorite pajamas were crusted with mushy peas, so they were too dirty to wear. One for days were good days.

The distraction was actually helpful then, because she could barely hear the hysterical cries coming for the living room while she was re-reading Harry's note. She waited the usual 10 minutes or so, then went and picked up her wet-faced blue eyed beauty and cuddled her through her tears. Zoe held on and stayed on her lap while they watched cartoons. She fell asleep there too.

So Jo didn't run right to Harry.

She waited 12 hours.

Even though she had plans that day, to work, she found herself dropping them all. Audrey came over early because Jo was finalizing her first day lectures. That was an easy day, presenting syllabi and setting expectations. The intentions part was the difficulty. Every semester she liked to pick a focus for the first day, a theme to carry her classes through the year and connect them.

Her only focus today was Harry. Her brain replayed his note when she tried to think of anything else. Jo wanted to put the note in her wallet like the pictures friends used to give her in 6th form. Keep it on her and present it to him as an "Admit One".

She was fairly certain he was going to open the door and let her in, but Jo twisted her hands together while she waited anyway.

When Harry answered the door, she could smell that he had been painting, she could see it too. He was wearing the black tight jeans and he hadn't even bothered to button up his plaid shirt. He made her favorite picture and she wanted to snap it and put it in her wallet along with the note. He wasn't frenzied as she usually say him when he was working; he looked frustrated.

Even though it wasn't like him, she felt like Harry would be smug. Because she was there. He knew how mail worked in their village. It was pretty fast. Even with the fastest timeline, she had waited only a day. She figured he would see her like she was feeling. Jo was the junkie who had just sworn her dealer would never see her again yesterday, but was back again in the blink of an eye, hungry and in need.

Instead, he looked down and she saw his mouth quirk into a pleased smile. Harry looked up at her with a sweet knowing grin, "Hi!"

"Hi," she found herself grinning too. "Painting?"

He shook his head.

"That a yes or a no?" She giggled.

"I was trying, though I suspect it will go better now." His eyes caught on hers and she was the brush and the canvas. "I was having a snack, come in."

He took her hand and led her to where a plate and teacup were set up and pulled out the stool next to him while he sat. Jo took it and their thighs touched almost all the way from hip to knee. They were just facing the wrong way.

"You hungry?" He asked and took a bite of toast. He held it out to her before she answered.

She took the proffered bite and lingered before flicking eyes up at him. "I'm hungry." She said after she swallowed.