tea stained newpapers. mileven au.

eighteen.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
AN ARTISTIC POINT OF VIEW.
EL'S POV.

el hopper was many things.

of course, there was no doubt that the twenty two year old was one of the most talented artists around, yet she was still an incredibly humble individual when it came to her work. but besides the success she has made throughout arts, the brunette also strived to be kind, gentle and protective especially when it came to her feelings.

however, the one thing el swore to herself that she would never be is a bad friend.

only two days have passed since mike and el's trip to the brooklyn bridge and let's just say if the small artist had to pick a moment to live in forever, yesterday was definitely a top contender.

it was no secret that the golden orbed girl had never felt this way towards anyone before, so hypnotized by his flirtatious movements and way with words. but to her, it was almost odd how one simple touch from the writer could turn her thoughts into a thousand different colors, all thrown in various directions across a blank canvas.

what makes matters even worse is that her mind has been unconsciously painting completely unrealistic scenarios in her head ever since they last saw eachother. it hasn't even been that long if you think about it, but the vivid daydreams of him wrapping his arms around her again made the spot where his lips pressed against the crown of her honey locks burn with a feeling that felt absolutely blissful, yet so frightening at the same time.

but this is all completely unrelated to the reason she was being considered a bad friend.

the reason she was being accused of this obnoxious assumption had to do with the completely absurd complaint from a particular editor.

according to her sources, lucas sinclair was not a fan of being left out. the writer claimed it was simply because he didn't have many friends besides himself, but el had a gut feeling that the only reason the sarcastic boy wanted to be included was to tease them about... well whatever was happening between her and mike.

with that being said, el had woken up to probably one of the strangest phone calls she has gotten in a while. it was mike, of course. however, with the amount of arguing happening in the background, she wasn't entirely sure at what points she was speaking to lucas or her beloved writer boy.

either way, it doesn't change the fact that the small artist was currently perched on a familiar bar stool, her chin resting in the palm of her hand and her short legs swinging back and forth as san tropez played loudly throughout her favorite duo's brownstone apartment.

"hey - hey! back off, asshole. this is my job." lucas's pitchy voice remarked, the editor swatting away at his best friend's hand that was mindlessly stirring the pot of boiling pasta on the stove.

mike's brows furrowed instantly, yet the smile that took over his features was wide and playful, "just making sure you don't burn the house down, genius. i don't need another fire in this place."

"i'm a professional, i know what i'm doing." the sarcastic boy mumbled underneath his breath, pushing the raven haired boy out of the large kitchen furiously. the lanky boy couldn't help but to scrunch his face at the editor as he stumbled around the counter and leaned against the back of the small girl's chair, his childish attitude causing a giggle to escape the her glossy covered lips.