I groaned aloud and grabbed my phone.
The constant beeping was incredibly annoying and it's distracting me from attempting to study. I clicked on my messages knowing exactly who was pestering me.
Every since Kyle got my number last week, he has ensured to fill my inbox every minute of the day. I didn't mind most times. He made me feel like I had some worth. He liked me for who I am and that was something I highly respected.
Since last week, he has been like a leech to my life. He was always by my side, and constantly sucked away all my hope of trying to ignore him. Selena started to notice too. And her intense glares were very unnerving.
"Lyla."
"Why aren't you online?"
"Hellooo?"
"You better not be studying!"
"Come on sexy, I'm lonely :)"
My cheeks flushed at the last text. I will never get use to how much he teases me. He was incredibly attractive and saying things like that did things to a girl's heart. I was crushing on him so bad and growing so close to him, made me scared. There's nothing worse than one-sided love.
Me: "What did I tell you about those nicknames? And yes Kyle, I AM in fact studying."
Kyle: "But you are sexy Lyla."
I blushed furiously and groaned aloud again. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, my father walked pass my room. His body froze, and I met his concerning eyes. Oh no...
"Lyla, is everything okay?" he asks.
I smiled brightly. "All is well dad! Just peachy."
He hesitated, then sighs. I watched as he runs his hand down his face in a frustrated gesture. When he looked at me again, he almost seemed to be in pain.
"Lyla, your face looks like spurted ketchup was tossed all over it. It's that boy again isn't it? He's distracting you. You haven't even painted in days," He begins in a scolding tone.
My mood immediately went dim. "Kyle is just a friend dad...you know I never have friends." I mumbled.
"Yeah but you don't need a friend who is going to distract you. You know how much...how I depend on-"
I squeezed my palms. "You don't need to say it dad. I know. I'm actually going downstairs to paint shortly," I lied. I didn't want to have this conversation with him right now. Especially feeling like this.
He exhales in relief. "Alright, good. I'm going out with Tart Tat tonight, I'll be back pretty late."
I merely nod and gritted my teeth in anger when he left. He gets to go out on a Friday night and I'm stuck here, being forced to paint. It was very unfair, especially knowing he's going to be spending money that I earned on my own. Without his help.
My ringtone blared, and I jumped from my thoughts and peered at the screen.
Kyle.
"Hello?" I answered reluctantly. I was well aware he would only continue to ring my phone off, if I didn't answer.
"Lyla? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just- I'm kinda busy," I lied.
"Busy doing what?"
"I need to go paint," I said simply. Maybe painting will take my mind off-
"I want to watch you."
I froze. "You- what?" I asked dumbfolded.
A shuffling noise echoed in his background then the sound of keys jingling. "Text me your address Lyla." He demands.
"Kyle, you're not coming here-"
"Yes, yes I am. And if you don't text me your address right now, I'll go walking around Virginia Beach like a lost puppy until I'm actually lost. You know I will Lyla-"
I groaned. "Okay! Fine! You're so...ugh!" I screeched.
He chuckled, and I ended the call. He was such an idiot! And that's exactly why I knew he would most definitely do what he said. I just wanted to be alone and drown in my sorrows.
I sighed feeling defeated and texted him my address with a dozen angry emoijis.
I quickly changed into a plain, nude-pink dress and pinned my hair back with a clip. My tendrils scattered around my face, but I found the look quite cute. After which, I straightened my room a bit, then went down stairs to prepare some snacks for him, in case he's hungry.
It wasn't until the doorbell rang, I realized how nervous I actually was.
Kyle Andrews, the hottie from New York city, was about to enter my home for the first time.
My heart battered wildly, and I hesitantly opened the front door. He was even more gorgeous at night and my cheeks heated up. He was in a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. His boots and jeans matched his jacket, making him look like a total bad-ass. His hair looked rumpled and tossed as it always does and his eyes looked even darker than usual but the green in them was more prominent. I casted my eyes to his smirking lips and swallowed. I can just imagine kissing them. They were so round and full-
"Is it weird to say that I missed you?" his voice broke my thoughts. Oh gosh, maybe Kyle being here is a very bad idea...
"Yes, because I didn't miss you." I raised my chin uprightly.
He flinched. "Ouch." He complained.
I grinned and widened my door for him to come inside.
"Welcome to my humble home," I said, closing the door behind him.
He looked around my living room and the kitchen right across from it briefly with an unreadable expression. "Nice," He finally says.
I hummed in response then walked into the kitchen with him right behind my tail. I was really nervous with him here. We were all alone, and I was practically falling for the dude. Wow, falling? No, no, I meant...I liked him.
I poured the bag of Lays chips into a large green bowl, then took two cans of soda from the fridge.
"I still can't understand why you would want to spend your Friday night here. I'm boring and you have tons of friends at school," I complained and shoved the bowl towards him.
He inclined against the counter and reached for some. However, he didn't remove his eyes from mines.
"The answer is simple. They're not you. You're way more fun," He says.
Feeling a sudden intensity from his gaze I pulled the soda opened and took a large gulp. Why was I freaking out like this?
"Plus," he continues, "You sound pretty down on the phone."
I sighed. "Yeah...my dad kinda got me upset...which reminds me, that I need to go paint!" I chirped, lifting the bowl from the counter and walked out of the kitchen.
His footsteps echoed behind me, and I warned him to watch his step, as he followed me into my basement. Only my father and Percy has ever seen in here. I also think Jared caught a glimpse once, but Kyle was the first official person I introduced to my little studio.
I didn't mind it. He appreciated art and that made me even more comfortable. I switched on the lights on my way down, and turned the air conditioner on. It gets chilly in here easily, so I set the temperature to be pretty warm.
"Welcome to my lil studio," I introduced placing the bowl on a half empty table.
He silently took in the whole scene. It wasn't a very large studio. There were shelves lined with different sets and categories of paint. To the far right was a white shelf my father built me to keep my brushes. And directly beside it, was three stacks of boxes holding blank canvases. My easel was at the far right of the room with my work table close by. The table was a mess. I had opened oil paint there, with used turpentine, newspapers, palettes, other supplies and my very colourful apron. Close by where we stood, were stacks of old paintings I made. They weren't my actual best, so I casted them aside.
Kyle walked towards them, and stooped to the ground, staring at them. I rubbed my arms feeling a bit self-conscious.
"Those are oil paintings I did when I wasn't very experienced. I kept them to remind myself of where I'm coming from," I explained.
He remained silent for a few more seconds and I grew more nervous. He was staring at them with an expression I couldn't quite understand. When he finally stood and faced me, there was an intense look in his eyes. I don't remember ever seeing him so serious and the emotion bewildered me.
"I can tell." He finally whispered.
"Right." I drawled and walked to my easel and proceeded to change the canvas I had there to a new one.
"I know you draw, but how's your painting skills?" I asked, with my back turned to him. I heard one of my stool scrape the ground and figured, he sat down.
"Uhh...well...good, I guess," He stuttered.
I snorted and glanced at him with raised brows. "You sound so confident," I teased sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes.
"I just didn't want you to feel intimidated," His familiar smirk finally found his lips again.
I scoffed and brought my hands to my hips, turning towards him. "Oh really? We should test that theory one day," I challenged.
He folded his hands and pushed out his chest confidently. "We will...Do you remember the art gallery we talked about last week?" he suddenly asks.
I nod and reached for my apron. "What about it?"
"Have you ever been there?" he asks.
"Only once. It was much smaller then than it is now though."
He smiled softly. "Who's your favourite artist there?"
I tilted my head in thought. The fact that he is asking such a question was a bit odd. He must really love the gallery. I wondered how he would react if he found out that my works were apart of their collection.
"Well, there's quite a few...Maria, Daniel and oh, I once saw a piece by Johnathan Harrington, called 'Seeking' and I swore I fell in love," I gushed with a large grin.
His face fell for second and he quickly recovered, fidgeting a bit on the wooden stool. "R-really?" he stuttered, "Wh-why?"
I shrug and glanced at my fingers in thought. "It was an abstract piece, with a title that connected to me in many ways. I swore I felt everything. The need for love, to find the right person...to always be seeking..." I trailed off, meeting his eyes again.
Our eyes locked and I swore the intensity heightened in the room a thousand times. But no matter what, I just couldn't pull my eyes away.
"Maybe he was...still is searching for love." He says softly.
He broke our gaze moments after and glanced behind me. After clearing his throat, he asks, "So what are you going to paint?"
I swallowed my nerves, feeling relieved the awkwardness was slowly leaving the room. "I really don't know, lately I've been lacking in inspiration, it's very frustrating."
"You can always wait until it comes to you." He suggests.
"Actually, I can't...I kinda have this...commitment....and I just... need to paint."
He was silent for a moment, but he spoke the moment I met his eyes again. "Alright, paint me." He declares.
My heart skipped a beat in excitement at the thought. I've always wanted to paint him from the moment I laid eyes on him. I instantly felt excited that he even suggested it so willingly.
My only problem was finding the right colour for his eyes. I've tried days ago to mix my colours, but every time I see him, I knew I didn't get it right. I had started to doubt whether or not I'll really be able to find it.
"Are you sure?" I asked with a grin.
He smiled. "Of course, I've never been a model before."
I squealed, and he chuckled at me. "My lighting sucks in here though so I might just do the outline tonight, and maybe finish it during another day."
I explained, pulling my easel closer to where he sat. I dragged my table close by as well, while he let his folded arms fall and straightened his form.
I could barely contain my excitement. I would treasure this piece forever, but I can already tell it was going to be a challenge for me. I gathered my primer, and charcoal pencil on the table, and smooth my canvas gently.
Kyle remained silent the entire time, his gaze watching me intensely. Just as I lifted my charcoal pencil to sketch his outline, my eyes zeroed on his frame and I placed the pencil back down.
"Just a few adjustments..." I trailed off walking over to him.
I started to fixed his shoulders so that they weren't exactly facing me. Then I asked him to remove his jacket, thinking of the look I want to capture and once he did, I smooth the ruffles of his T-shirt.
Touching him this way, made me blush terribly, especially when he was smirking at me, the way he is. He suddenly flashed his hair, and I gently tugged his chin to the exact position I wanted his head to be in. My skin tingled at the warmness of his body. The light down here, made his skin look almost like caramel, and up close, I could see the silky-smooth texture it had.
I lifted my hands to his hair, and my breathing began to hitch. The static in the room amplified, and I begin to wonder if he felt it too. I swallowed nervously, and my fingers shook slightly when I brushed the tendrils away from his eyes.
Suddenly his hand gripped my fingers and my eyes met his. They were like a raging storm and the two colours seemed to be battling with each other. The smirk was gone from his lips, and they remained parted...inviting me in.
His gaze lowered on my face, and I was certain he was gazing at my lips.
Oh my gosh, what's happening right now?
My heart was pounding in my ears.
Someone. Help. Please.
"Am...am I perfect for you now?" he suddenly whispers, his gaze locked on my lips, and I suddenly couldn't tell if I was the one moving closer towards him.
"What?" I murmured puzzled by his question.
"You know...for the painting..." he met my eyes again and I blinked, breaking the moment.
I quickly pulled my hands from his, and practically jumped towards my easel.
My shaking fingers grabbed my charcoal pencil once more but I hesitated before glancing at him again.
"Y-yeah...alright...stay still." I command, and with a deep breath, I brought my pencil to my canvas.
I had a thought, would you guys like a little bonus chapter of Kyle's thoughts in certain moments? Let me know!
Remember to vote & comment below!!!
-With love, Chan.