A V E R L Y
It wasn't sunny, there were clouds in the sky making it perfect to sit outside in the light wind.
We sat on the grass and opened up our supplies to.. paint I guess.
I've never painted with anyone before. Or outside for that manner. It has always been me and my room.
This is new.
He hands me my canvas. It's an average size, easy to hold. Then he takes out his.
Yeah he still doesn't know about what happened but what I did notice is that the guy left a bruise on my wrist. I hope he doesn't notice.
Laying out the paints we both purchased, he pushes the acrylic tubes towards me and opens the oil paints he got.
"You paint?" I question, seeing he knew what he wanted to buy.
"Used to," He says, his eyes hold a deeper explanation, an old memory, like he's recalling the time he used to paint, it seems like a happy memory.
We start painting, as I face the trees on the far end and he faces our supplies in between us, using his book as a palette.
**********
We paint for an hour or more I guess. When I was done, my hands were covered in patches of paint and so were my jeans.
I hear a chuckle from my side and look at him smiling seeing my state and I smile back.
We start laughing looking at each other. He has paint on his t-shirt and fingers too.
"This is a mess," I tell him as I keep my paint covered, brush down on the grass.
"A beautiful mess," he mutters as he keeps painting.
I look at him at his words but he's looking down on his canvas, concentrating.
"You still haven't finished?" I ask, curious about what he's still painting.
"Almost done," He holds a finger up.
I let him work as I wait for my painting to dry so that I can work on it with pen.
YOU ARE READING
Drained | ✓
Short Story[COMPLETE] "Can you help me with my assignment?" I look him in the eyes. Then I think about his question and what all I still have to do. I have so much stuff to do. But I can always do it later. But if I help him with his assignment then my free...
