Lexie is not a warrior. In fact, Lexie is a painter. Her hands are always covered in paint. Never coming off. Always there. For Lexie, painting is an escape. An escape from her pain. She paints to avoid the darkness that is in her soul. She paints t...
I stand in the middle of Atlas's room, staring at the bed.
It's large.
I wonder why he needs such a large bed.
The room itself is large also.
Almost x3 the size of the old room I was occupying.
There is no real color scheme.
Just various shades of blacks and dark blues, all mixed together.
Walking in, I can tell- from the scent, the furniture, the colors and the objects- that this is a male's room.
I don't feel like I belong in here.
Atlas walks in, setting down the last of my stuff.
He moves to stand next to me, looking around.
We stay within our silence for several more minutes before he clears his throat.
"Lexie."
I slowly turn to him.
I wonder if he can hear my heart. Hear the erratic beating and see the pressure it's causing there.
"Lexie, you don't have to do this."
I shake my head, "No it's...fine."
I take a shallow swallow, wishing I wasn't acting so brave in that moment. Actually what I really was, was a coward. I was too much a coward to tell him that I wanted to go back to my room and shut myself into the solitude of it.
Instead I stood there upon shaking legs, staring into deep blue eyes- letting them drown me.
Atlas sighs and looks around.
"Here," he moves to a box and picks something up. A paint brush. Walking over he grabs my hand and shoves the item into it.
"Make this room yours. Paint something. Put something on the wall."
I look at the pale grey wall that surrounds us. The entirety of it is blank. No pictures or objects hang upon it.
"What do you want me to paint?"
Atlas shakes his head, "It's up to you. Make it yours."
He bends down, placing a light kiss upon my cheek before leaving me standing there in the middle of the room.
I slowly walk over to the different paints I have.
Looking around the room, it starts to form. What I'll do. What I'll create.
I smile.
I push out the thought that maybe Atlas won't like it.
Push away the idea that he won't approve.
Art didn't need approval.
It just needed to be seen.
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(sorry for the short chapter- I'll make up for it with the next update)
