Leave Me [h.s] (On hold)

Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen- If you say

-Noelle's POV-

"You want some help up here?" Zack said from the doorway. I spun around to face him, my clothes spattered with paint.

"I'd love it." I replied, exasperated. I hadn't done this much work in who knows how long.

"Well you better go ask around. I don't do paint." He said with a sly smile. I narrowed my eyes at him. Of course he didn't do paint, he was Zack.

"Oh really? You don't do paint?" I said, smirking at him, my paintbrush balanced between two fingers.

"Of course I don't. Paint stains. Clothes are expensive." He scoffed.

"Are the clothes you're wearing right now expensive?" I inquired, taking in his whole appearance. He had on a navy blue shirt and loosely fitting jeans. They didn't look expensive at all.

"Not particularly." He said, glancing down at his outfit.

"Well then you won't kill me for doing this." I said and hurried flung the paintbrush at him.

"Dammit Noelle!" He exclaimed, a big black stain on his jeans.

"Oops." I said with a shrug.

"Alright. Now I'll help you. But only because you ruined this perfectly good pair of jeans. I would hate for that to have no purpose." He said, picking the paintbrush up off the floor.

"You were going to help no matter what. You're just to stubborn to say so. You never wear jeans that loose unless you're going to do work." I said, picking up my spare paintbrush and plunging it into the black paint.

"Oh, so now you're an expert on my wardrobe or something?" He said, beginning to paint the wall parallel to the one I had been working on all morning.

"Of course. Why I wouldn't be?" I said sarcastically. I don't think that Zack and I have carried on a conversation this long since I got here. He seemed pretty decent.

"Shut up and keep painting." He smiled. I stuck my tongue out at him and turned back to my wall.

I had been painting for about 5 hours and I'd only gotten one wall completely done. I took too many breaks I guess.

When Wes agreed to this whole drawing studio idea I don't think he anticipated that I wanted to re-do the entire loft. But he still woke up early to take me to the hardware store to get black and white paint.

So here's my concept for the loft: Two walls will be black and two will be white. Because earlier I had come to the conclusion that my life is pretty black and white at this point. It's not all deep and profound or anything but it sort of makes sense.

I mostly just couldn't decide what colors to paint it so Wes pressured me into black and white because I was taking forever. We both agreed on black and white because there's not a million different shades to look at like there is with colors. It was just easy.

After I painted it Wes was going to take me to tiniest furniture store in the world. Literally, that's what the furniture store is actually called. Believe me, they stayed true to their name.

In Chicago, all the buildings are massive. Especially the furniture store, which was more like a warehouse than a store. I bet I could have taken 5 hours to get only a few things in that store. But here in Oklahoma, there was one furniture that wasn't 500 miles away. And it was a little two story building that was so old it was practically held together by duct tape. Wes liked the place, he described it as 'rustic'. I just thought it was kind of a shit hole. But it's what we have.