Body Art

4 | ask me questions

We went to McDonalds.

It was about five miles from school and fairly cheap. Plus, we could sit in here and converse without catching stares from our peers, which was nice since that was all we got leaving the parking lot.

It took about five minutes of us sitting in silence before I paused devouring my food and brought the topic back up. "Sooo."

Taz raised a brow in inquiry, looking up from his phone. He slouched terribly across from me, hood on and disrupting his dark hair, legs spread out under the table as if we weren't sharing the small space. If he were going to do this, he shouldn't have picked a booth. "Sooo?"

My mouth flattened and I swallowed my fries. "When are you going to paint me?"

"Why do you sound so eager?" He wiggled until he was back to properly sitting up, excitement tugging at his mouth.

"I'm not, I'd just rather get this over with."

He smirked. "You make it sound like being a muse is such a pain."

"It probably is," I mumbled before shoveling another few fries into my mouth.

Taz crossed his arms on the tabletop and gave a bland look. "Have you ever been a muse before?"

"No."

"Then how would you know?"

"Touché. Again."

"If you really don't want to do it, that's fine; I can find someone else."

I shrugged. "It's not so much that I don't want to, I just don't get what that means. I mean I know what a muse is, but what does that mean for me; what do I have to do? Am I stripping down and covering my parts in fruit? Do I just hold the fruit? Will there even be fruit?"

Taz burst into laughter, eyes crinkling and shoulders shaking. It was cute. "I'm not that kind of artist, Dana."

"And that's great, but how was I supposed to know that? You weren't exactly specific on the job requirements when you asked me."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Fair enough. Ask away then."

"I'm sorry?"

"Ask me questions."

"Oh." Honestly, I hadn't prepared any. "Why don't you just... just tell me what you've got in mind. Is this like a one-time thing or am I just supposed to just swap my clothes out for a sheet every time you get inspired?"

Puzzled, he asked, "Why do you keep assuming that you'll have to take your clothes off?"

I dipped a fry into some ranch sauce. "You never said I wouldn't."

"Do you want to be naked around me?" he asked dryly.

"Of course not!"

"Alright then." He hadn't said it harshly, but there was some finality behind his words that told me he'd probably be a lot less passive if I brought it up again.

A thick silence blanketed our table and he huffed, dropping his head into one hand and letting his fingers rake back his hair. He was probably regretting ever asking me to do this for him. Even though I was just here for the fries, I still felt a twinge of remorse. Just as I was thinking maybe I shouldn't be so difficult, he spoke up.

"I asked to let me paint you because you remind me of someone," he said somewhat softly while keeping his gaze low. "When I moved here, I left a lot of friends behind. Actually, I left everything, but..."

"But what?"

He paused, eyes flickering to mine for a second. "Nothing. Anyways—"

"No, tell me." I found myself saying, "Please."

Inhaling deeply, Taz raised his head. That's when I noticed that his eyes aren't just as brown as coffee, but the specks of hazel in them flash like amber in the afternoon sunlight. "I think you might be the first step in the right direction."

I quirked a brow. "And by that you mean...?"

"I mean I haven't felt inspired to do anything since I got here - even before that. Then I saw you laughing at something one day and thought maybe if I can get you on canvas, I can get my shit together."

Wow. Wasn't expecting that.

"Why me, though? What's so special about me that's got you all inspired?"

"Honestly, I don't know." He shook his head, the corners of his mouth tugging as he regarded me from across the table. "But I was really hoping you'd let me find out."

Blood elevated to my cheeks again as my eyes narrowed. Damn him for making me blush so many times in one day. "You could've just talked to me in class if you wanted to get to know me."

He grinned. "And be like every other guy in that school? I'll pass."

"And what's every other guy in that school like?" I pressed, dropping my chin into my palm and leaning in. "Since you clearly know what you're talking about."

"Well they all stare at you, for one thing."

"Do they?"

"Only when you're not looking." He folded his hands on the table and leaned in, too, mimicking me. I caught the faintest glint of smugness in his eyes. "They're also too self-conscious to put their egos aside and tell you how beautiful you are. Which makes no sense because they never shut up when you're not around."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter what I think."

"Why not?"

"I'm an artist; I don't believe too much in people's opinions."

"Not even your own?" I challenged.

"Only when it matters," he said simply.

I was impressed with how he managed to get out of that unscathed. "Right."

As an afterthought, he added, "But I'm also a guy."

"I assumed so."

"And as a guy," he continued, ignoring my comment, "it really kinda irks me that nobody's chomping at the bit to get next you."

"Why does that irk you, Taz?"

Any part of that childish innocence I'd seen in him before was gone now. It'd been replaced by this aura of unwavering confidence, and it seeped enticingly from his clothes like a cologne. His grin was terribly devilish, but it brought a sense of excitement to my veins. "I'll let you figure it out."

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May as well update since it's my birthday 🎉