"Why are you so beautiful?" Jackson sighed. I scoffed and poked his stomach with a finger. "And of course you're making fun of me." I laughed. He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh playfully before chuckling and asking, "Now why would I do that?" I shrugged. "Because you enjoy seeing me confused." He scratched a brow. "I'm being genuine. You're beautiful." He chuckled. I raised an eyebrow and directed my attention to the painting tools I was laying out before Jackson disturbed me.
He looked around, trying to think of a new way to annoy me. It took him a while but he finally came up with one; being obnoxiously loud and childish. "I'm boooooored. Why did you make me come here if you aren't going to talk to me?" He groaned while swinging back and forth on a creaky floorboard. I shot him a 'Be quiet or I'll shove my paintbrush down your nostril' look and he stopped. Briefly. Two minutes had gone by before his opened his mouth to whine again. "You drag me on painting adventures and don't talk to me for hours. I wanna go homeeeee." He bellowed. I pursed my lips and ignored him. The creaky floorboard noise started again and I couldn't help but want to drain all my paint down his throat. "Be quiet or I'll make you drink this paint." I warned, tapping at a cup full of freshly squeezed art paint. "You wouldn't dare." He pouted. "If you don't shut your mouth, I will gladly do it. Just watch." I spun around and smiled. He tilted his head to the side and locked eyes with me, something he does a lot. Pretending I hadn't noticed our ten second stare, I turned back around and arranged my tools.
I paused after a while to stand back and take in the view. The sun was beginning to rise, and I'd set up camp here, in an abandoned building, so I could admire the morning. I fiddled with my paintbrush and stared at the changing sky, thinking. Jackson was besides me, but I hadn't noticed until he nudged me. "What are you thinking about?" He asked. I scratched my head and rubbed my eyes. "I have nothing to paint." I blurted, suddenly realizing I had zero inspiration. I slumped into my chair dramatically. He threw his head back and grinned. "I've been waiting for this day." I eyed him, waiting for him to explain his joy, since it was apparent that it had come at my expense. "I don't know why you're grinning. This is my portfolio we're talking about." I muttered. He paused, sensing that I am in no mood to play now. "You can paint me." He suggested. "I've already painted you." My voice was shrill, I'd started to panic, as I always do when I get stuck and can't think of a way forward. "Yeah, but not for your portfolio." He added. "Are you willing to sit quietly for my painting?" I asked. He stroked his chin, pretending to think, before he agreed. "But at a cost." He quickly added. "What is it?" I asked, cautiously. "I want a cheeseburger and extra large chips." He stated, very seriously. "Deal." We shook hands. A painting for a burger. I don't even know why I asked, every deal we've ever made involved food.
I told him its just a simple portrait picture and he shouldn't do anything, just sit still. He nodded and tusseled his hair before pulling what he called his 'Vogue' pose. "Paint me like one of your French girls." He lisped while imitating Rose from The Titanic. I couldn't help but give him props for pulling that line. "I knew it'd make you laugh." He beamed. After recuperating, I told him to stand still if he wanted his cheeseburger. "You have to keep quiet otherwise we'll be out here by noon." "Wait. Why can't you take a picture?" He asked. I stared at the morning sun. "Mmm...you want me to paint our selfie?" "You can. I mean...if you want." My eyes lit up at the idea. "We could! We could take a selfie. And I paint it at home, far away from you because you never shut up!" I jeered. He frowned and tussled his hair. "Yeah yeah. So selfie potrait is okay?" He asked. I nodded. "Yeah. For reference of course. Plus, this means I get to go home now. I'm freezing." I groan. "You say that every time you drag me on your little adventures. I just wonder why you'd complain because you're the one that picks out the time." He debated. "Sshh. You talk too much." I mouthed.
Truth is I didn't know why I always picked mornings for my 'little adventures'. I just did. I loved the morning. Only when I'm feeling less like a troll though. We snapped a few serious, tumblr aesthetic looking pictures before we got carried away and started goofing off. It was a lot of fun, making faces in a couple of pictures and OTP'ing all over the place in the rest. We were polar opposites. He had beautiful porcelain skin, with tussled blonde hair. My skin was dark brown and I had black natural hair, styled into Bantu knots. His eyes were never the same colour for too long, he wore coloured contacts frequently. Today they were gunmetal blue, paired with dark, somehow always perfect eyebrows. My eyes were russet, paired with thick eyebrows that were regularly tweezed to keep them in check. The soft natural lighting accentuated his features, making him look like a Greek god and it gave me highlighter goals I strive to achieve on a daily basis.
