Paint A Picture On Me

Nueve

Kellin laughs again and drags me up from the cold, hard ground. I grumble in embarrassment, but I let out a small chuckle as he replaces his arm around me, I hold his hip too, keeping myself up using his sturdiness. "Keep talking, it helped," I tell him. He lets a small smile slip on his lips and faces forward, speaking slower this time.

"I like beanies because they keep my ears warm and my hair in place, normally it falls in my eyes. I hate dressing up, although I find suits really hot. My family hosts a lot of events, you should come to one sometime. I love cookies of the peanut butter kind. I have a younger sister, but she goes to an all-girls boarding school. I like the little affectionate touches and prefer that to when people are all over me--I like pretending to have boundaries. I prefer drying the dishes over washing them. I totally suck at cooking, I pretty much always burn the thing. School's pretty boring, I want to go to fashion school one day. I want to cut peoples hair, because I have a bit of a hair fetish. Although, my life long dream is to be a musician. You know, a singer. It's stupid and I probably won't ever make it, but I've always wanted to be on the road and be a role model, you know? A lot of people think I'm crazy and that it isn't the life they want for m-"

"It's not stupid," I tell him. "It's actually very endearing. You should sing for me sometime." He smiles and looks at the crowd, a blanket of silence falling over us. It was peaceful though.

We didn't speak very much after that; just skated around, me slowly finding my footing and Kellin asking occasional questions to distract me. Mike and Shannon found us and we all went back to benches changing back into our shoes.

"We're going to go get some dinner. You guys can have some alone time and... do whatever," Mike informs us, giving me one of his Kellin totally likes you looks. I roll my eyes and Mike wanders off, his arm linked with Shannon's.

"So..." I start. Trying to think of something that isn't too coupley to do.

"Let's go on a walk," Kellin says, taking off down the street. I follow quickly behind, tossing the tied skate laces around my shoulders, letting them hang off my torso. He wasn't too far ahead so it only took a moment to catch up. I wasn't really sure what to say since Mike's words reminded me of how I may be leading Kellin on. He needs to understand that I can't be with him. I feel like I haven't at all expressed that.

"Kell," I say.

"Kell?" he asks, making me realize I forgot the stupid in again.

"In. Kellin."

"Right," he chuckles.

I nod and think for a moment before mumbling, "I forget what I was going to say." He chuckles and shakes his head, but it dies out and we fall into another silence.

We walk to the edge of downtown mostly in silence, just enjoying the feel of winter's air and the soft buzz of passing cars. Eventually Kellin slows at a platform overlooking a huge lake and I stop too, standing beside him.

"I used to come here all the time when I was a kid," he reminisces. I look out at the black, crashing waves and can almost imagine a young Kellin standing here with a balloon hanging-upwards on a long string, attached to his wrist.

I see small movements in the corner of my eye and move so I can see it a little more clearly without looking right at it. I then realize it's Kellin inching his fingers towards mine. Nerves fill my core and I pretend not to notice and move my hand, running my fingers through my hair. His hand retreats to his side and I swear I hear his breathing go shallow and shaky. I drop my hand down again and turn to face Kellin. He closes his eyes tightly, sighing before restarting the journey of moving his hand towards mine.

After long, agonizing moments his pinky grazes my own and I shoot my head forward again in fear of him catching me. He lets out another long breath before lacing our fingers together. I see his eyes open and I can't help but look at our hands and back up, locking my eyes with his. In that moment it's like he physically changes. The moonlight hits his skin making it look like delicate porcelain, the streetlights twinkle and dance in his eyes. His hair groomed perfectly and the way his beanie falls on his head. All of his features elude innocence and purity. He's fucking gorgeous. I can't help but get cheesy and think to myself how perfectly his palm feels and fits with mine. My eyes wander down to his lips and I wouldn't dare verbalize my thoughts. His lips are just so inviting. So soft and moist and perfectly pink an-