cannibals [slow updates]

xi | bad blood

(dedicated to briteens because why not you seem hella rad)

xi. bad blood

Lennon sat in the art room on Thursday, absentmindedly chewing on the cap of her pen.

It was after school and her basketball practice was canceled for the day, so she sat in the classroom, waiting for the other kids to come in.

It was the second day of the week for the art program and to say that she missed Harvey was an understatement.

When he left, she had a feeling of gratitude towards him.

Lennon was extremely grateful, but she knew nothing would show him how much.

Gasping, she remembered that the principal canceled all activities after school, and she wanted to slap herself for feeling so forgetful.

Staring at the blank canvas, an idea popped into her head, and she grabbed the acrylic paint. Pouring some into the palette, she picked up her brush and started to paint.

Her fingers glided across the paper, and music blared in her ears and she painted with such passion and determination.

When she was finished, she smiled before yanking an earbud out of her ear.

"Is that me?" She whirled around in surprise, not expecting to find a voice.

Harvey was standing behind her, a faint smile on his lips.

Lennon stared at him. "How long were you standing there?"

He shrugged and walked closer to her. "Not long, just a couple of minutes."

Coming from behind her, he studied the painting and then laughed. "Is that-is that pizza on my shirt?"

Blushing, Lennon looked at her feet. "I wanted the painting to reflect when we sorta first quote unquote 'met.'"

Harvey's small smile tugged upwards into a grin. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

She nodded and attempted to casually lean against the table, but accidentally knocked down the water cup and sliding the table over.

"Shit," she muttered as she fell in a puddle of dirty paint water.

Chuckling, Harvey extended a hand to help her.

"Thank you," she murmured, dusting her pants off. "But now my jeans are wet!"

"Oakley has a pair of shorts in her locker," he told me. "I'll go get them."

"Don't you need her combination?" She asked, confused.

Harvey scoffed. "Please, we have each other's combo."

Lennon smiled and remembered a rumour she heard once before. "Rumour has it that you have Farrah and Oakley's nicknames tattooed on your back, and vice versa for the girls."

"Not a rumour, we actually have them," he informed her, with a small smirk on his lips.

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious? Can I see them?"

Turning towards her, his eyebrows raised. "Sure."

He tugged his shirt above his head to reveal the tattoo. Free/Oak was inked in amazing calligraphy on his upper back.

"Wow," she gasped with awe. "It's beautiful."

Her fingers lightly traced the words on his back and he refrained from shivering at her touch.

"Let's get those shorts," he stammered, tugging his shirt down. "Her locker's just down the hall."

They walked, embracing the quiet hallway between them.