Paint A Picture On Me

Dieciocho

My mind is swarmed with possible outcomes. Except, ninety-eight-percent are negative. I walk from the house, straight to my car and instantly start patching together a pep talk. He can get through this; I know he can.

I'm so distracted I almost miss his turn. Thankfully, I didn't. I go up to the house and his mother answers the door, looking less than impressed to see me.

"It's not a school night," I tell her. She purses her lips together before moving to the side slightly.

"He's upstairs," she mutters.

I let out a breath of relief along with a, "Thank you."

"Mm-hmm," she answers. I waste no more time and rush up the stairs, knocking too many times on his door.

"Not now mom," he says weakly.

"It's not mom," I say into the door. Silence resinates from the other side of the room. I decide to go in anyway.

The door creaks open and I step inside, pushing it closed behind me. I see Kellin sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, his knees at his chest with his faced buried in it. His fingers grip and tug at his hair.

"I'm here," I say, dropping at his side and lightly pulling a hand from his luscious, black locks. He whimpers and tries to pull his hand away, but I just wrap my fingers around his. I can't believe that this whole time he has been going through this. He should have told me so long ago. He's shaking, as if shivering but if anything it's hot in here. I pull him into my arms and rub his arm.

"I j-just- I wa-want some-something," he says through sobs.

"Shh, relax. You need to relax. Focus on something else," I tell him. He sniffles and I move behind him, so that he's situated between my legs. He starts convulsing more rapidly and I moves my arms around him, holding him tightly. I kiss his shoulder and prop my chin on it. He leans his head back on my shoulder as his crying comes to a screeching halt.

"I'm s-so sor-sorry," he hiccups.

"Don't be sorry for something you can't control," I tell him. I gyrate my chin, slowly massaging his shoulder. That gives me an idea. A great, fabulous, perfect idea. "I'll be back in a minute."

I climb out from behind him and give his hand one last squeeze before leaving the room.

"Miss Quinn!" I call. She makes a noise of understanding from downstairs and I rush down their stairway, gliding half the way. "Is there a chance you have any lotions?" I ask.

She shoots me a look of pure horror and loudly accuses, "What the Hell are you doing with my son?"

"No!" I exclaim with wide eyes. "Not for that! Oh my lord, no. I mean like... moisturizer or something."

"Darn tootin' you better not mean that."

"I swear I don't. But I need to get back to him, so do you have any?"

"Yes." I wait for more of answer, but it never comes.

"And where would they be?"

"In the bathroom." I nod and hurry back upstairs, straight into their bathroom. I search through their vanity and pull out whatever assorted oils I can find. I quickly hurry back into Kells' room and he barely moves. He just stares blankly at the ceiling. I place the lotions on the floor and go over to Kellin, kneeling down in front of him.

"Kell? Can you get on the bed for me?" I politely ask. His eyebrows furrow and slowly lifts his head, looking at me. "Please?" I beg. His expression doesn't change as he slides up onto the bed. I get up, and lean down to his ear whispering, "I'm going to take off your shirt. Is that okay?"