Rock and Roll

Chapter Fifteen: Kiss Me

He spent the day waiting for her to get off work. Maybe he should've trained a little more. Maybe he should've gotten as much rest as possible. But he couldn't.

She was all he could think about. There was a constant nagging in the back of his mind that was so her he could barely contain himself. Whenever she popped into his mind his teeth were set on edge.

He decided he wanted to paint her again. He had a few hours to spare before she finally got off work. He didn't know why he knew that.

He grabbed the paints from the box in the corner and set up his last canvas. He didn't have the money for more right now, but he had high hopes for next weekend. He should have enough then.

He painted the sky first. He swirled the blues and pink and oranges together to create a perfect cotton candy sky. He painted her next. She wore a bright white dress and her hair was down around her shoulders. It was whipping lightly in the wind catching ever slight breeze and running with it. He painted her with her eyes closed. She wore more black lipstick. He painted her smile, which he had only seen a few times. Her ebony skin was the most difficult part. blending everything together and getting the color the exact right way was a challenge for him.

He stepped away after what seemed like a few minutes. His nerves had calmed and he took a few deep breaths. He had painted her exactly as she appeared to him. He wondered if she would like it, if she ever saw it. He hoped so.

He looked at the clock in the kitchen.

It had been hours. She was off work now, probably on her way over.

He rushed around the apartment cleaning up his dirty clothes and art supplies. He threw every rag and shirt he could find down the hall. They all collected in a pile outside his bedroom door. Bellamy would not be happy about the new obstacle course.

He had just finished putting the painting away and washing his hands when he heard a knock on the door.

He almost slipped on the tile floors while running to answer it. He paused with his fist on the handle. Take a deep breath, he told himself, and calm down.

He did. He opened the door to see and impatient Valentine on the doorstep. He opened it wider so she could come inside.

"It's cleaner than I remember," she said. She laughed a little. Her arms were folded across her chest and her dark brown eyes were glittering in the light that streamed through the windows. He noticed every detail about her. The way her hair curled as it got closer to her face, the way her teeth stood out so starkly against her skin. The way her eyes reminded him of fresh soil.

He coughed. "Yeah I thought it was a little gross, so I cleaned up," he said. He ran his hand through his hair.

She strolled over to the couch and sat down.

"So you said you were going to explain?" she said. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her eyebrows were scrunched together. She was probably still feeling the concussion, just a little.

"I took out a loan to pay for my moms surgery, but I couldn't get it from a bank. I have to pay it back somehow and I couldn't get enough money to support myself and make the payments. This was the way," he said.

"Aren't you just a knight in shining armor?" she said. He looked over at her. He was being honest with her and she was still rude. 

"What do you mean?" he asked reluctantly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I mean I've heard a million sob stories before. I still think this is dumb as hell, why can't she pay it back herself?" she asked. Her eyes were open now and staring at him.

"Because she doesn't know! She thinks I'm an artist. She wouldn't have the money anyway, she's a teacher and she's still raising four kids," he exclaimed. He took a few steps closer to Valentine.

This was not what he expected.

Now that he thinks about it he wasn't sure what he expected. It was Valentine after all.

She stood up from the couch and walked toward the door. He followed her.

"Are you just going to leave?" he asked. His eyes were wide and his voice was strained.

"I mean, yeah. If that's all you've got I'm out of here," she said. She was so nonchalant about it. He had spilled his guts to her and she couldn't care less. Every other girl he told that story was holding him and petting his hair at this point. They would tell him it would all be okay and that they would be there for him. She just didn't care.

Maybe that's why he kissed her.