The Stars Are Out To Dance

Griffin layed in silence. He was at peace. For these few minutes at least. 

The boy wanted to get out of the suffocating room. While he was at a comfort level he'd probably never achieve in weeks after he disturbed it, he yearned to get up and get to work. 

By 'work', he meant continuing the useless hobby of painting whatever abstract thoughts he had.

By now his head was swarming with more than he could handle and he needed to just get everything out.

He got up from the comfort of his cushioned bed and headed over to his desk lazily. It was already 4 am and even though he was a bit tired, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping soon.

He made sure to set everything back up to quickly get to work, pulling out his paints and brushes. Refilling his glass of water which was sure to become muddy again in the next few minutes, he seated himself in front of a blank canvas that he'd been saving for a night like this.

He began to hum away, dipping his brush into the warm-colored paints, he painted a dewy field of oranges and yellows. Nothing could stop him at this rate, nothing other than his hand beginning to cramp from time to time in need of a short break.

It had begun to get quite hot as the hours passed. Griffin didn't turn on the fans, however, the feeling left him tired but helped him stay in the mood for the picture he was painting. He was painting the scenery of heat and moistness. A paradise he longed to run free in just to see how it would feel. 

A sudden buzzing of his phone snapped him from his deep work, he reached far over to the bright screen which notified him of an incoming call. 

The name flashing before him on screen made him grin as he pressed the answer button.

"Mallie?" He cheered, getting up to grab a bottle of water. 

"Well good morning to you too," They both chuckled to one another.

"All right?" The other calmed down the laughter.

"Yeah," Griffin paused to sip his water.

"Alls well besides the lack of sleep."

"Another all-nighter? Christ Griffy, that's no good for your health." He huffed in response. 

"I'll be alright, I always am."

"What did you call for anyways?" The question came off a bit more harsh than intended, but he was sure the other didn't care for his grouchy attitude.

There was a long pause, Griffin wasn't sure if his friend had hung up or not so he continued to take a seat and resume his painting, leaving the other on speaker.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come over."

"When?" He continued to pet the canvas with his soft brush strokes, eager to finish this painting already.

"Well... I was hoping I wouldn't be bothering you if you were to come over now..." He trailed off into a mumble and jumble of incoherent requests and apologies.

Griffin set his brush to sit in the muddy water and stood up from his desk.

"Brilliant!" He exclaimed, holding up his finished piece. For now, he knew it didn't look quite right but if he came back later with a fresh look to it, he would be able to spot the last blemishes in needing of a fix.

He coughed, realizing he left Malphio hanging.

"Sorry um, of course, I'll be over in a few alright?" He began to clean his desk up, rinsing out the mucky water and tarred brushes.