****My brothers' best friend.****
Raina Jackson's been through and overcame so much. Despite all the trauma in her life, she never gave up on love. Even if that means falling for her brothers best friend...
Adrian Adams Jr. has already starte...
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Walking into Adrian's house I must say he overreacted. Firstly let me just say that the outside was beautiful. A blue-ish grey color with white trimming, craftsman style. The entryway view of what's inside was just as nice.
Taking a moment to take everything in, I walked a little further inside. I was instantly drawn to the exposed high ceilings. A massive rustic beam standing near the kitchen complements the dark hardwood flooring.
White crown molding, huge handcrafted wooden doors. The furniture, I could tell a woman decorated. With all the added accent fixtures everywhere and tufted taupe leather sofas.
"This is really nice babe, who decorated?" I went straight to the need-to-know question because no. Un un. You better not say some girl you use to know.
"I did." He said way to quickly. "Seriously who decorated?" I squinted.
He laughed. "My mama. She loves taking on projects like this. I told her to do whatever she wanted. She know what I liked and disliked for the most part."
Good answer sir.
"She did an amazing job. I love all the artwork and sculptures." I gazed around.
"That I can take credit for. I want to show you something real quick." He grabbed my hand and we walked upstairs down a long hallway. At the end of the hall was a door. The slightly ajar door was much taller than the others. We walked inside and flipped on the lights.
"Woah." I goggled at all of the paintings and sculptures everywhere. The room filled all of Adrian's art pieces. He laughed.
"What is, --how did you, --when?" I looked around confused.
"This is my favorite room in the house. I come here to unwind." He stood back allowing me to soak everything in.
"I remembered a couple of months ago you finally told me you painted as a hobby. You never said you were this serious or good at it. You downplayed it. You're talented."
He smiled. "Thank you."
He walked off into an opening behind the wall. I stood taking everything in. There were easels everywhere. On each wall he painted a different nature scene. One wall had an up close view of a grasshopper hopping off a pavement towards some grass. It looked so real. I could stare at it all day and feel like I'm outside witnessing it.
Then the opposite wall had a painting of a beach with sea shells washed up on the shore. The details in the sand were spot-on and life-like. The wall that stood out the most was the painting of the lion. It was in the middle. The lion looked defeated and had open wounds. All types of cuts and blood stains on his coat. Had suffering in its eyes looking straight ahead into the distance.
I started giggling at the fact that I just thought the lion looked defeated. As if it ever could. The lion is still living so no defeat there. He will heal and be stronger to fight again.
