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xxi. painting lessons

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

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With everything I'm trying to balance, it's a surprise that I'm able to knock on the door in front of me. A bag filled with paintings supplies is hanging off of my shoulder whilst two easels are tucked underneath my arms whilst two white canvases are tucked underneath the other. This is the beginning, the beginning where I begin to actually get to know Mitchell Preston. Do I still hate him? Yes, because he hasn't given me a reason otherwise.

"I don't know, maybe just let him get to know you first. Remember you guys still hate each other and if you allow him to see different parts of you, he may do so too."

I repeat Luke's words in my head. A few moments pass before the door opens, revealing Natalie who gives me a smile when she sees me at the door. But her eyes drift to the stuff I carry and her eyebrows raise in questioning. I don't blame her, if a girl shows up at my eyes with a lot of things, I'd be questioning her too.

"Hello Faye, how can I help you?." Natalie asks slowly.

I take a deep breath "Is Mitchell home?."

"He's at the back." She tells me using her index finger to point behind her where the backyard is "you can just go through." She says as she steps to the side, allowing me to step inside "would you like some help carrying any of these?."

I shake my head at her with a smile "no, but thank you though." I reply "do I just go through here?." I ask Natalie and she nods her head as an answer. With a sigh, I make my way to the backyard. Carrying the easels, canvases and a bag filled with painting supplies was painful and exhausting especially when walking through a house that doesn't seem an end. Which is why I took a breath of relief when finally I reached the back door, using a hand I slide the door open and step onto the wooden porch.

The sky is covered with grey clouds, hiding the sun, but allowing the rays to beam down on everything below. My eyes look around for Mitchell, but stop when I see him reading a book in a hammock. In his ears are white earbuds that is playing extremely loud music and I know that because I can hear it. With a roll of my eyes, I walk up to the hammock and stand over him, gaining his attention.

Mitchell smirks as he pauses his music and takes his earbuds out "you just can't get enough of me, huh princess?." He asks and I want to smack the smirk off of his face, but I don't because I remember why I'm here. Luke's words are still circling my mind like a broken record.

"No, I'm gonna teach you how to paint." I explain as I begin to set up our painting station. I put the easels next to each other and on each easel, I put a blank canvas on the small edge provided. Afterwards, I turn to Mitchell who watches me with raised eyebrows. He gets up from the hammock after putting a book mark in the page he was reading.

"You paint?." He asks, shocked.

"You read?." I retort as my eyes go to the book on the hammock.

Mitchell rolls his eyes "you think so highly of me, don't you princess?." He questions sarcastically "what are we painting anyway?." He asks after a few silent moments. Out of my bag, I grab a palette and begin to squirt out different colours of paint on the outside of the wooden object.

I shrug "anything that comes to mind, I guess." I tell him. After the paint is on the palette, I grab some brushes for Mitchell and hold them at for him, gesturing for him to grab them. He sceptically looks at the objects in my hand ; I roll my eyes again "they're not going to bite you." I say and hesitantly, he grabs the stuff "oh wait!." I exclaim before turning around and grabbing a white apron from my bag that I placed on the ground before hand "turn around, I gotta put this on." I order and he does so.

"What is this for?." He asks.

"To hold your brushes." I answer as I finish tying off his apron.

"Why do I need so many brushes?." He asks.

"They're used for different techniques." I reply "anymore questions Sherlock?." I retort as I tie my pink hair up in a messy bun with the hair tie that was around my wrist. I look over Mitchell and chuckle at how confused he looks as he puts the brushes in the pocket of the apron around his waist. It's so funny seeing the confidence man so confused at something as simple as painting.

He looks me over "where are you going to put your brushes?."

After tying my hair up, I pull the pocket of my overalls that is resting on my chest, giving him his answer without words. He nods his head at my actions as I grab my own palette from my bag before putting paint on the wooden material just as I did for Mitchell. I then grab my own brushes and put them in my overall's pockets.

"You know you can begin right? You don't have to wait for me to tell you." I say to Mitchell as I dip my brush in the white paint before spreading it all over the canvas just like Bob Ross does. That's how I learnt to paint, so I've kept Bob's techniques with me for a few years since they work so well.

"I don't know how to paint." Mitchell tells me.

I chuckle "then use your phone and watch Bob Ross." I say "I'm not going to teach you when there's a bunch of videos on how to paint on the Internet."

From the corner of my eye, I see Mitchell go to the hammock and grab his phone. Soon the voice of Bob Ross fills the air around us. He puts his phone in front of the canvas and listens intensely to what Bob is saying. Finally, we are both painting with the colours on our palettes. Besides the sound of Bob Ross, my ears listen to the sounds of the birds chirping softly and its peaceful.

I didn't know what I was painting either. I just allowed my mind and hands to do the work without me interfering. Mitchell and I didn't talk, he just listened to Bob Ross whilst I was too focused on my own painting. From the corner of my eye, I see Mitchell desperately trying his hardest to follow Bob Ross' tutorial. I didn't think he'd want to paint, but he is.

Maybe I was wrong about him after all.