Callow
(adj.) Without the experience of the world.
"Paint fumes are a wonder, don't you think?"
The shh sound from the spray of the can filled the silence, a bright yellow hue escaping from the tip as it marked the edges of a building. A gentle breeze from the outside passed through the missing portion of the building and quickly preserved the color onto the once blank wall.
A shake from another can echoed across the empty space of the abandoned building, startling a few rats that hid themselves under the debris. Piles of rubble were scattered across the ground like the first layer of freshly powdered snow before it gathered into one spot and grew to form a small mountain.
Discarded office chairs, both broken and fixed, could be found every few feet followed by a set of wooden desks that became the food source of resident termites. Glass shards were spread across the floor, nearing the edge of the opening that was created by an unfinished demolition project.
And while the city buzzed and hummed beneath them like a hive of busy bees, no one paid attention to the teenagers committing a little crime.
That is, if vandalizing a run down office building was even considered a crime.
Cole brought down the mask that shielded his nose and mouth from the strong scent of the paint. "How come?" He asked while allowing himself to breathe for a moment before giving the can in his hand a strong shake to resume his artwork.
A strong hiss echoed from behind him followed by a clatter of metal against concrete as Vania discarded the empty spray can to the ground. "The smell is...addicting. Like a legal drug that people ignore." To prove her point, the girl had refused to wear something to protect her from breathing in the scent.
"Aren't all drugs illegal?"
"Not this one."
Vania could practically hear the shake of his head and the roll of his eyes. She knew him that well to know that he did it. No matter how many times he would deny. In return, she grabbed another canister of paint that stood by her feet, awaiting for a turn.
She kicked a small piece of debris out of the way and moved to another corner of her makeshift canvas, giving the can a good shake before she proceeded to fill in the drawing with a bright orange color.
There were plenty of places she could've chosen to do her art, most of them actually legal, but where was the fun in that?
Vania had discovered this place a few years back during a car ride on the way home to the hospital after another set of devastating news that she was, in fact, dying—it didn't mean anything to her though, she had heard the words plenty of times that any emotional response was numbed.
The building was under demolition that day. The bottom half was covered by a giant blue tarp with warning and hazard signs pasted on the outside. There were construction men and vehicles that moved about the area, ready to clear the building from the sight of the people.
The demolition was never finished, of course. Something about a canceled project where the original buyers had decided to back out from the construction of a different building. Vania didn't know the whole story, only the fact that the place was now free for her use.
Well, not entirely free.
But with the building abandoned ever since and a strong urge to bring a sense of color into the grey walls, Vania had claimed it as her own secret spot. Cole had trusted her enough to bring her to his and it was only right to return the favor.
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Setting Suns | A Coania Short Story
Fanfiction"I just want to be somebody to someone, you know?" "Don't we all?" This story was never happy. And like all good things in the world, happiness (no matter how small) would always come to an end. There was only a limited amount of luck in Cole Broo...
