The Girl with Paint

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"You're really starting to creep me out, Hazza."

Niall's words make my grin falter slightly and I glance over to see him side-eyeing me like I'm a crazy person who might attack him any second. This makes me laugh deep in my chest and his expression only grows more extreme.

"I'm happy, how is that creepy?" I laugh, pulling on my shoes and checking my phone again for what feels like the hundredth time.

"Because your grin looks like a serial killer's."

But, I am barely paying attention to his amused tone because my phone vibrates just as I am taking it out of my pocket and that serial killer grin only grows, actually painful this time with how wide it is.

Red: Actually, Twinkies don't last forever either... They only last up to 45 dyas. They wouldn't survive an apocalypse anyway.

Red: *Days. Ugh, texting is hard. My thumbs are too fat for this.

The giggle that falls from my lips surprises even me and I catch Niall pretending to gag before he rolls his eyes and heads out the door for work. I plop down on his place on the couch and think of a reply.

It's only been a week since we had dinner at my mum's, but Layla and I have barely seen each other.

I've had to work doubles at the shop almost every day to make enough money to pay my mum's hospital bills and any free time I do have I have either spent painting or sleeping.

Layla has been busy herself at the café, taking more shifts than necessary without telling me why. And all her other time... Well, I'm not exactly sure what she does, but she is almost never at home.

Texting has been our go-to for communication: mostly just chatting about our lives or funny things we saw that day or asking random questions, like our conversation now - what we would take in the apocalypse.

But, with our opposite schedules and Layla's terrible texting manner it's been difficult.

I miss her.

Me: Well, we don't even have Twinkies in England so you'd be shit out of luck anyway.

Red: You... You don't have twinkies here?!

Me: Nope... surprised you wouldn't know that, Miss Encyclopedia.

Her reply is instant and makes my grin only grow and the ache in my chest only deepen.

Red: I don't think I can live here anymore. What kind of place doesn't have Hostess?

Me: If you move now then you will ruin my plans on what to have in the apocalypse.

Red: Why? What would you take?

Me: You.

I wait.

And I wait. And I wait.

When she doesn't reply within two minutes I begin to worry that I had scared her off again, that I was getting too mushy and it was too much for her.

Those moments don't happen often anymore, but on the days I do see her I have to be careful not to smother her with too much affection. It's hard to always get a read on her and how she is feeling; one minute she could be holding my hand and laughing with me and the next... she is closed off and distant and doesn't want to be touched.

It's completely understandable, but I'm afraid one day I may push her too far too soon and she will pull away from me and never come back. And that would be it.

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