no control | dolan twins

twenty four

I slowly enter the art studio with Grayson trailing behind me. We're planning on starting the mural today and I needed another palette. I walk straight past Max, who eyes my every move. I grab my unfinished painting of the roses and take the rest of my supplies with me.

Grayson stays close to me the entire time, holding a duffle bag packed with extra brushes and actual buckets of paint. Once I'm almost done gathering my stuff, I hear Grayson angrily clear his throat.

"Say one word, and you'll regret it." I look up and Max is standing in front of him.

"I just want to talk to Taylor." He sighs and looks at me.

"No, you really don't." Grayson rolls his eyes at him.

"What, are you her bodyguard now?" He goes to move past him, but Grayson continues to block his way.

"She doesn't want to talk to you." He says through his teeth.

"Why don't you stop controlling her and let her speak." Max looks directly at me.

"Max, I don't want to talk to you," I speak up with a sigh, "I'm collecting my supplies and I'm not coming back here."

"Don't do that," he suddenly mumbles, "you're an amazing artist who deserves to be here, if anything I'll leave when you come in."

I let out a loud breath as I hold onto my canvas. "You promise?"

"Oh, he better," Grayson cocks his head, "I'll most likely be with you whenever you come, so if I see him in here he'll regret it."

"I promise." He lowly mumbles as he glares up at Grayson.

"Let's go." I say to Grayson as I walk out of the door. He follows me out of the building and back toward his car.

"He's a real prick." He finally says as he puts everything in the backseat of his car.

"So is your brother." I mumble as Grayson starts the engine and begins to drive toward our secret location.

"Yeah, I established that years ago." He rolls his eyes as he places his hand on my thigh.

I look back at him with a grin. He's wearing old black sweatpants and an extremely faded Aerosmith t-shirt. His outfit matches mine, old sweats with my high school sweatshirt from my senior year. Since we're painting, I told him to wear clothes that aren't too nice in case they get ruined. He finally pulls up to the empty area and we gather all of our supplies.

Once we are in front of the plain white wall, I place my hand on my hips are stare up at it. Grayson gave me the idea to paint two hands reaching for eachother, with a galaxy as the backdrop. I thought it was a really unique idea, so I agreed.

"Okay, what do we need first?" He looks down at the buckets of paint.

"Hm, I'm thinking the background should be black." I stare at the wall and let my imagination take over.

"Good thing we have that." He lightly laughs as he opens a large can of black paint. "We may need more, though."

"It's fine for now." I shrug as I dip the thick paintbrush into the black liquid.

"I've never really been into art." He shrugs as he mimics my actions.

"That's shocking considering you play the guitar and you're covered in tattoos." I giggle as I collide my brush with the plain wall.

"My tattoos don't really have meanings to them, they were mostly just bullshit to piss my parents off." He states as he paints next to me.

"How many do you have?" I look over at his inked body.