When the Paint goes Dry

Chapter Ten

"No damn it Ava, Robert and Roberts son are different, I am Damien, I am checking up on you for him." I stared at him as he kept talking and finally stopped looking at me, "Does that make sense." 

I nodded, slowly, "Yeah...like I'm checking up on you for my mum, got it, don't worry, Ava's got this." I nodded giving hm a thumb up and he groaned running his hand down his face, "No, let me try drawing this, do you have a paper and pen? Or wait, let me show you pictures." He reached for his phone the same time the doorbell went off and I jumped up.

"Pizza's here! Finally, I'm starving, show me after." I opened the door seeing the teenager hand me the boxes and gave him a note as I grabbed them, "Come on, let's see what movies are on."

"No I really should leave." He stood up grabbing his phone as he read something on it, seriously, he was going to leave because I told him not to show me pictures?

"I just ordered two pizzas, I can't eat two by myself," I probably could if I just stayed up all night watching movies, but he didn't need to know how big my appetite was. I patted the seat on the worn out couch as I dragged the coffee table closer, "The plates are in th-yeah, there." I nodded as he walked around the counter. 

He looked slightly on edge as he sat down, what, a business deal gong wrong? How could oil refinery go wrong.

"So, like, where is your oil company, in Melbourne?"

He cleared his throat as he sat down placing the plates on the coffee table, "It's international."

I did a double take, "What? Have I heard about it?"

"Probably, we supply petrol stations with petrol as well."

"Of course you do." I muttered silently as I passed him a plate as I switched on a random kids movie. I had the silent urge to ask him how much he made, millions? But it was rude to ask someone how much they earned, I was sure if he threw the question back at me, I would slightly feel uncomfortable answering that question, especially since I didn't even have a great job to begin with. I painted, pictures.

Anyone can do that with enough practice. 

"You know, apparently you pushed me into mud when I was six."

Damien choked on his pizza as he turned his head to look at me, "Me? I didn't know you when you were six,"

"Yeah, I didn't think I knew you either, but this is what Emily, she's Arnold's wife, Archie's mum in case you forgot, told me. That's why I was so confused, like you looked so different back then. But then I don't know if its just-" his phone started ringing and he looked at it, "Sorry." he said ending the call.

"You can pick it up if you want, I don't mind." I shrugged taking a bite of my pizza.

"It's nothing important, just Michael."

I nodded, continuing, "Anyways, like I was saying, I don't know if I actually remember you or just remember you from what Emily and Amelia told me, cause I thought you would look more like your dad,"

Now that I thought about it, he didn't look like his mum either. He shifted uncomfortably, and his phone rang again, "Well, someone is popular." 

"Sorry, I'll switch it off."

"No it's fine if its really important you should take it." he shook his head saying it was okay and placed it back into his pocket and the rest of the meal was finished in silence. The movie was slightly starting to bore me and I looked at Damien as he stared at the screen blankly. Was he even paying attention?

There was a small crease between his eyebrows, like they were narrowed as he was in thought, and the only light was from the TV reflecting the bright colour onto his face highlighting some of his features.