Exploding Hearts (bxb) | ✔

T H I R T Y - N I N E

In a way it felt like Oliver's space because it gave him peace and quiet.

Just as I worm my way through campus, people walking in groups and towards the SU bar considering it was a Friday night. I skip through the main painting block and through a wooden set of stairs down to the bottom floor.

I peek my eyes through the glass window, already spotting Oliver with his back to the door and a paintbrush in hand. My fingers press down on the door handle, the creases making an awful screeching sound but this doesn't even alert Oliver.

Slowly I walk towards him and push the door closed with my foot, Oliver tuts to himself and then swipes his hand across his forehead before rushing to paint again.

"Hey," I say quietly from behind him.

Oliver's head raises and he takes one glance back at me. My lips fall into a frown instantly, his eyes looked red like he'd been crying and then rubbing them aggressively.

"What's the matter?" I rush as I drop the bag of food beside him and draw up a chair.

He sucks in a breath and lets his brush fall to the table, his fingers raising to rub his eyes. "Just work," he mumbles. "I'm just getting stressed over it."

"Hey," I say softly as I reach up to grip his wrist. "Take a break, breathe, go for a walk. I bet you've been sat here all day and you haven't stopped to think about drinking water or stretching your legs."

Oliver looks down to the floor instantly because he knew I was right, so right. He doesn't treat himself properly whilst he's completing university work and he'll end up making himself sick.

"Oliver," I say loudly to get his attention. Eventually he looks up at me again and I take his hand that was speckled with paint. "What's got you so stressed?"

"Nothing feels like it's going right," he sighs and I take one glance up at the painting. "No," he says instantly, trying to cover the canvas. "Don't look at it."

I fight away his hands as I look up at the piece, his assignment was clearly for an abstract piece and Oliver is adamant he's only good at realism.

"I think it's beautiful," I comment as I look at the mix of blue and purple, the blending looked perfect.

Oliver shakes his head. "You're only saying that because you're my boyfriend." He grumbles out.

"No," my voice cuts over him. "I'm saying it because it's true, the blending is beautiful and the colours are vibrant, they've not been lost to the canvas."

He glances up at me before turning back to the painting, taking a moment to look over his own work. "I guess the blending is okay," he finally admits.

A small grin stretches across my lips as I snake my arm around his shoulder. "It's okay to acknowledge your own work Oliver, even if you don't think it's your best, you should still try to see what you think is good about it."

He bites down on his lip and nods before turning to me. "That sounds like a good idea actually," he breathes out slowly. "Better than focusing on what I think is bad."

"Exactly," I nod enthusiastically. "But you also need to take breaks. Have you eaten today?"

"I got a coffee and a croissant for breakfast," he says before leaning into the table.

I tilt my head forward and raise my eyebrow as Oliver glances over my face. "Really?"

He clenches his eyes shut. "I know it's not ideal but I've been busy, distracted."

"Too distracted," I say quickly. My hand leans backwards to grab the food I had ordered earlier. "Good thing I brought dinner to you."

Oliver looks down at the bag and his shoulders relax. "Oh fuck, I love you Max." He says before shuffling forward to steal a kiss from my lips.