Out Of The Woods (mxm)

Chapter Twenty One.

"Stay still."

"I'm still."

"Don't move."

"I'm not moving."

Nico looked up at him from across the room and raised one eyebrow.

"I'm not moving." Tyler repeated.

"You move when you speak. Stop talking."

Well, that was boring. But Tyler had to suck it up, since he was the one who had asked for Nico to paint him.

He had said, What if instead of painting your nightmares, you paint me?

Nico had liked that idea. And here they were now.

Tyler was usually patient, but he was also a really anxious person, so it was hard to stay still for such a long time. If he'd known he'd have to be sitted in the floor in the same position for more than an hour (because Nico had been painting for more than an hour now), he would've thought better about the proposal.

But, at the same time, he really liked seeing this new side of Nico. The artist inside him. He liked seeing how he seemed to go to another dimension when he grabbed the brush, how his eyebrows furrowed together when he stopped for a second to look at his work, how he sometimes smiled a secret smile, a smile that Nico probably didn't realize he was making. Tyler loved to be the one able to see all of this.

No one came into the studio and watched Nico paint. No one got to spend so many hours of the day with Nico, to live with him. No one had been lucky enough to have Nico trusting them and opening up about his past. No one, only Tyler.

He felt lucky. He felt as if he didn't deserve all of this, as if he were unworthy of such happiness, but wanted it anyway.

It felt right, in some weird way. Sure, it also felt strange sometimes, it felt insufficent and it gave him anxiety. But most of all, it felt right.

Nothing had ever felt this right. And nothing had ever felt this wrong.

After another hour, Tyler spoke again.

"Nico, I'm sorry, but how much longer-"

Nico looked up and wiped his forehead, staining it with blue paint. Tyler was about to say something about it, but decided against it: he looked cute with it.

"I'm done." Nico said, blinking, as if coming out of a dream.

Tyler's eyes widened as he smiled. "Really!? Can I see it!?"

Nico smiled then, one of those soft, small smiles he seemed to have only for Tyler.

"Of course."

Tyler stood up, ignored the pain on his legs and went besides Nico, and froze.

He blinked, looking at the painting.

"I..." The words died in his lips as he stared at the boy painted in the paper, not believing someone could look at him and see that.

It was him. His black hair, pale skin, blue eyes, small frame, oversized clothes. That was all him. But there was something in the paiting that he'd never seen in himself. There was some kind of golden aura to him in the painting, making him look bright. As if he were the sun. He would've never thought of himself as bright. There was also something about his eyes, something that made them look mysterious yet clear windows to a soul that seemed somehow pure and broken and sweet and strange.

He usually never felt much when he looked at paintings in museums. He didn't understand them. That changed a little when he saw Nico's paintings.

But this painting. This one painting was... different.

And then he realized he was seeing himself through Nico's eyes. Was this how he saw him? Bright, mysterious but open, sweet, a little broken?

And the most beautiful thing in the painting—and upsetting— was that if he looked at this painting as another person that didn't know Tyler and Nico, he'd think that the person who painted it was in love with him. There was love in this painting. There was love on how Tyler's hair had been painted with stars and constellations around it, love in how Tyler's eyes were shining through the paper, love in the way his hands were shaped.

He couldn't explain, but he would've been sure it was love.

"Do you like it?" Nico asked.

Tyler looked at him.

"I..." He was speechless. "I love it. It's beautiful, Nico. It's really beautiful."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Tyler looked at it again and swallowed. The two hours staying still and uncomfortable had been worth it.

And then he saw the name for the piece Nico wrote down in a paper before he folded it. He wasn't supposed to see it, but he did.

It was called "My Love."

Something turned inside Tyler. His heart went crazy, his stomach filled with butterflies, his mind went blank.

So there was love in it.

Maybe love wasn't something that had to be said out loud. Maybe Nico wasn't ready for that. But love was there, between the two: in the way Nico took care of him all the time, the way Tyler had held Nico after he told him about his past, in the way they made love, and the way they trusted each other.

They didn't need spoken words to know it. Someday, one of them would say them, and the other would say them back. But for now, they screamed the words without speaking, kissing, hugging, helping each other.

Tyler sat on Nico's lap and started kissing him, trying to show him at least a quarter of what Nico had shown him with that painting.

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A/N: Okay, this is short, but I had to give you an update today or I would feel so horrible about myself...

I'm so ashamed on how long it took me. I'm so sorry. I'll try my best to be better for you guys.

I'll try to update every two weeks or at least monthly.

I'm trying my best at everything right now. And writing is not something I should've left behind for so long. Sorry...