Frying Pans and Paint Cans Don't Match. Right?

Frying Pans and Paint Cans Don't Match. Right? *{4}* (Picture Of Skye)

Hey sorry for the late update. I have exams in 2 weeks so I might not get time to update.

I hope you enjoy this chapter since theres a small Jason's POV part. I don't want to write alot in his POV yet.

There's Skye Rain (As Jessica Alba) ---------------------------->

It took me ages to figure out how to fit it but I managed :D

I'll post Jason in the next chapter :)

Anyways Enjoy! :)

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~ Chapter 4 ~

"Wow" I exclaimed breathlessly as I walked through the high double doors and entered a grand foyer. The floors were made out of white marble and were polished so cleanly that you could see your reflection. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. It was so beautiful but I had a sick feeling that it would come crashing down on top of me. Two sets of stair cases climbed the left and right sides of the walls, leading to the next floor. Delicate vases sat elegantly on white Greek pillars every few metres against the walls. The sound of my footsteps echoed throughout the room, disturbing the gentle silence that had originally taken the room. But what caught my attention were the many artworks that hung proudly and magnificently on the walls, each picture surrounded by a golden frame. There wasn't as many as in the medical centre but these ones were more old and ancient. I took my time studying each one, and each painting amazed me more than the last.

"Oh my god..." It was at the end of the foyer and it was the biggest. It was a picture of what I thought was heaven. The white fluffy clouds and the big golden gate. All the gods smiling at each other. It was breathtaking. It made the room happier. Well it made me happier.

"Hey Jason who painted thi---....... Where did he go?" He had disappeared from the doorway. I wonder how long he was gone. Probably left the second we walked through the door. Why are all the good looking guys always the jerks?

{Maybe the jerks are the good guys.}

Please, that's definitely not how it works.

{Are you sure?}

Okay conscience your confusing me. Jerks are jerks, nothing more nothing less. It's as simple as that.

{Hmm... We'll see.}

I think I like the other side of you more. This smart side is giving my brain a work out here.

I didn't bother looking for Jason so I sat down on the marble floor and stared up at the painting. I loved it so much that for a second and I say a mere second I envied Jason because he owned it. I was disappointed when I decided not to draw it in my artbook because it was too big. It covered the whole wall for Christ sakes. I knew it wouldn't look as good if I drew it that small. I sighed and looked at the time on my phone. 12: 41. I lied down on the floor, using my bag as a pillow. I guess I'll just take a nap. It would be rude to walk around someone's house and the floor was actually more comfortable than it seemed, just cold.

I quickly got out my artbook from my bag under my head and flicked through the pages till I got to the little girl. It reminded me of the exactly same scenario though only 10 years ago.

*%* Flashback *%*

The fallen leaves of the old oak tree rustled against the grass as the autumn breeze carried them with the wind. The local park was abandoned, welcoming the eerie silence to linger freely.

The sun shined onto my lightly tanned features as I skipped over to a single swing. It creaked against its hinges as the wind pushed it lightly back and forth. I climbed on the swing, sitting up-right with my hands clutching the side strings. I threw my head slightly back, embracing the warmth of the sun's rays and marvelling at the passing clouds.