Lexi, the Lover

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Lexi, the Lover

The snow crunched under my feet as I made my way to Blake’s painting shed.

            There was a big snow storm today so school was cancelled, and since I had been staying at Blake the previous night we all agreed it would just be better for me to stay over and not drive in the snowstorm. I did my homework and read a bit, and Blake had spent all day locked up in his painting shed. When he woke up this morning he said the snow had inspired him and he really wanted to paint. I wasn’t going to stop him, but now it was slowly starting to get dark, and Blake still hadn’t come inside to get food, so I had made it my mission to brave the snowstorm, and get to his shed with his dinner.

            It was still snowing a lot so I tried to move quickly but it was kind of hard since snow kept getting into my boots because too much had fallen and it reached higher than them.

            When I reached Blake’s shed, protectively covering the bag with his food in it, I didn’t bother to knock, I was just too in a hurry to get inside. I dragged snow away as I opened the door.

I felt kind of clandestine, just sneaking in his painting shed, without an invitation. For some reason, I always felt like I was trespassing when I was coming in here, like this was Blake’s private domain and he might snap at me if he ever found me here—like that could ever happen though. I really had issues.

Blake had his back to me when I close the door behind me. He was sitting on his stool, painting a landscape covered with snow, with a little boy building a snow fort on it and a little girl trying to catch snow flakes with her tongue beside him.

“Knock, knock, knock,” I said softly behind him, while taking off my coat and my boots—the place was heated—trying not to spook him.

Blake turned around and automatically smiled. “Oh, hey.”

“I come bearing food,” I said, showing him the bag Anita gave me.  

“What time is it?” Blake asked, frowning.

I chuckled slightly. “It’s dinner time actually.”

“Wow, already?”

“Yep.” I handed him his food.

Blake opened it, taking a burrito out. “I’m so sorry, we missed the whole day together,” he said, making a little face.

“Bah, don’t worry about it,” I waved the matter away. It wasn’t like I never spent time with the guy. “It was a good thing. I’m all done with school work now, and I’ve been trying to read Tuck Everlasting in French by using the English version and your dictionaries.”

Blake stopped chewing, and smirked. “How’s that going?”

“I read one page.” I sighed. “In two hours.”

“Aw, I’m so proud of you Pumpkin.” Blake crooned, chuckling.

I glared at him. “Little bitch…” That made him laugh more. “So, almost done with that painting?” I asked, pointing to it with my chin, as I sat down on the bed in the corner of the shed. It was as comfortable as the bed in his room, which was saying something, only it was smaller. Much smaller.

“Not nearly.” Blake groaned a little and ate more. “Painting snow is really hard because it’s never truly white. If you wouldn’t have come in, I probably wouldn’t have eaten. And I would have ended up on that bed.”

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