Painted Angel (Artist! 2p! America x Reader)

Paint and Sip

"Babe! Are you almost ready?" Allen shouted from the foyer of his penthouse.

"Al, I was ready twenty minutes ago," you laughed, walking into the room to pull your shoes on. "You were the one who was taking forever."

"I was not," he gasped dramatically.

"You took fifteen minutes to decide what sweater to wear before deciding that you didn't want a sweater and chose a long sleeved shirt instead."

"The sweater would have been too bulky to paint in!"

"Then why were you so hung up on wearing one for the longest time?"

"Because I look fine as hell in a sweater."

You rolled your eyes and stole a quick kiss from his lips. "That you do. I won't argue with you on that."

Allen hummed against your lips. "I knew you'd see it my way."

"Mhm... Now let's go, or we'll end up late to the art studio."

"Right. Right."

The two of you pulled on your coats before heading down to the car. Snow began to fall from the late December night sky as Allen drove to the other side of Manhattan. He had been contacted about three weeks ago to teach a paint and sip class in a small painting studio in Brooklyn. Your boyfriend happily accepted the offer but declined payment, saying he made enough money and would be more than willing to do the class for free. You couldn't help but smile at the memory of Allen telling you about it. He babbled on and on about how he always wanted to teach others how to paint but never really had the time before with how busy he'd been, but this gave him the opportunity to block out time in his schedule to not only do that, but to also use it as an excuse to spend more time with you.

Both of you had been booked solid ever since you got together but managed to find a few days here and there to meet up to go on dates, or if time couldn't be made, you'd tag along to the others appointments and events to spend even several small minutes together. You were smitten with him, just as he was with you. To make things better, neither of you had heard a peep from Samantha since the charity auction. Her social media was eerily quiet, and her threats to ruin Allen had proven empty. The nagging feeling you had before laid heavy at the back of your mind, but you tried to ignore it as you pulled into the parking lot of the art studio.

Allen held your hand as you entered the building, heading straight for the back so he could get everything he needed together. The owner greeted you with a big smile, thanking your boyfriend once again for teaching this class. Allen waved him off, telling him it wasn't such a big deal. While the two were discussing the plans for the evening, you brought out bins of paints, pallets, and brushes to place on the small stage at the front of the main demonstration room. The painting Allen was going to teach how to make was already set up on an easel with a blank one set up directly across from it. Scanning the room, there were already a dozen or so people already drinking their alcoholic beverages and chatting with the other patrons, paying no attention to you. One person, however, caught your attention.

They sat to the back of the room, all on their own with their hood up. You couldn't see their face, but you felt bad for them. Maybe they had been ditched by whoever was going to come with them tonight? You wanted to go sit with them to keep them company, but decided against it as another dozen people flooded in, taking up the empty seats around them. Hoping they would talk to the mystery person, you took a seat in the chair beside the stage. You couldn't paint or draw to save your life, so you'd sit out on the class and watch Allen do what he did best.