• Painted Stars •

chapter four

It was another night when the clouds didn't cover the stars and Thomas carried his painting stuff outside. He sat on the balcony again and looked at stars, wondering, how he should draw them today. He had a painter eye, what meant that he could see even the tiniest differences between things. Right now, he saw that stars were way darker than a few days ago what meant that he needed darker colours. He stood up, wanting to go inside to get the colours when he saw the blonde boy again. He sat on the window sill what was next to balcony and watched stars. Who knew why he wasn't on the balcony. His face was dreamy and his eyes sparkled. Thomas saw his lips moving a bit. Maybe he was naming the constellations he found. Either way, he was still perfect but somehow, Thomas succeeded to come back to reality. He stepped forward quietly but like always when he wanted to be quiet, he totally failed at it. And it was like this again. Somehow his leg got trapped behind the easel and he pulled it over, making a terrible noise. He looked at the mess he had made.

"Is everything alright?" Newt asked. Thomas wanted to lapse into the ground. He was happy that it was dark and Newt couldn't recognise him.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Thomas answered and covered his face with the hand.

"Sure?" He was so caring.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Thomas bended down and started to clean the balcony floor when Newt's voice made him freeze.

"Thomas?"

How awkward.

"Is that you?"

Thomas sighed and stood up. "Yep."

"Oh my gosh! I'm coming!" And he started to climb down on the vines next to the window.

Thomas wanted to lapse into the ground. It was just so embarrassing. He heard Newt jumping down and quickly running to him. He climbed over the balcony edge and Thomas couldn't have time to realise what was happening.

   "I'm going to go and search for napkins." Newt said happily and went inside.

   Thomas sat down. He didn't want to know how red he was. Why couldn't he just come here tomorrow?

   Before he could finish his thoughts, Newt was back with a bunch of napkins and started to clean the floor. Thomas kneeled down next to him and did the same. They did it in a complete silence.

When they finally had finished, Thomas threw the dirty napkins away and rubbed his nape in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you." He said.

"No, you didn't. Not at all." Newt answered and Thomas heard his soft British accent. "It was kinda funny and adorable. You were adorable." Realising what he had just said, Newt blushed hardly and chuckled nervously. "Sorry." He whispered.

Thomas smiled back. "It's okay." He looked at the easel and went quickly inside and came back with darker colours.

"Do you paint?" Newt asked curiously.

"Yes."

"That's so cool!" He watched how Thomas sat down and started painting. Carefully and slowly. Punctually. The paintbrush moved smoothly and Newt admired that deep blue color that it left behind on the easel.

"It's beautiful." He said when a small part of the sky and stars were done. "You are so talented. I'm speechless."

Thomas chuckled. "Glad you like it."

"I love it."

They spent the whole night together, Newt watching how Thomas painted while repeating over and over again how beautiful the painting was. Sometimes he pointed at a bunch of stars and said what constellation it was. Thomas was trying to focus on his drawing but totally failed at it. Because how could you get your eyes off an angel? Thomas wanted to say how beautiful Newt was in his opinion but he didn't have enough courage.

Maybe he'll say it later. Maybe.

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Sorry for the short chapter but I didn't know what to write.
Maybe I'll end this story with next chapter in what I'm going to shortly write what I wanted to happen in this book. Why? Because I'm not interested in writing this anymore and it has become more like an obligation than a fun thing to do.
Sorry.