tea stained newpapers. mileven au.

thirteen.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
SWEET.
MIKE'S POV.

ever since el spent the night at the boy's apartment, mike found himself thinking more and more about the sassy brunette. he wasn't entirely sure if it was a complete coincidence since he was preoccupied writing about her father for most of his time or if it was the fact that the small girl's sweet marshmallow scent was still lingering on his bedsheets.

whatever it was somehow made mike visit the hopper's large dark home almost everyday this week. all for various and quite frankly... silly excuses.

truth be told, they didn't all start out as silly excuses at first. however mike noticed something was off when he would get in his car and simultaneously end up at the mansion... the thought of the brunette artist opening the door with her know-it-all smile engraved on his mind.

was he obsessed? not quite.

interested? absolutely.

nonetheless, it was now another friday. the writer was currently resting in his black bmw at some stoplight in the middle of downtown manhattan, the sun slowly starting to kiss the top of each skyscraper.

you see since mike had spent so much time around the older man this week, hop had decided that he was sick of seeing the raven haired boy's face. with that being said, the retired chief sent the lanky boy away to run a few errands while he looked over the biography with lucas... the last one being to deliver a box to el's studio that she had accidentally left behind this morning.

of course, mike couldn't deny the offer. honestly, he was kinda sick of seeing hop's face too. plus it was the perfect opportunity to actually spend time around the beautiful small girl that had been completely corrupting his thoughts for the past week.

he couldn't help but to wonder about what she could possibly be doing right now. probably painting away next to a tall open window, listening to the cars pass by while soft music played in the background as she brushed various vibrant colors against a canvas.

wait, what kind of music does el listen to?

unfortunately the boy's dreamy thoughts were stolen away by the car honking behind him, forcing him back into reality. he immediately stepped on the gas pedal, speeding away towards the artist's studio.

it didn't take long until the writer was slowly making his way up the narrow stairwell, the panels beneath him screaming with each step like they would snap in half if you put too much pressure on them. truly, he imagined this building being nicer... much happier too. but instead it was just another run down building, driven into the ground by the countless amount of people working inside it. 

once the boy reached the third floor he scanned the countless rooms down the hallway, desperately trying to focus on reading the numbers on the small panels next to each room. he stopped when he found himself in front of room fifty three, el's temporary studio.

the freckled faced boy knocked distinctively before deciding to just push the wooden door open, slowly revealing the small girl in her natural habitat... humming as she washed her brushes in the sink located in the far corner of the room.

"miss me, painter girl?" mike greeted her as he pushed the door closed with his elbow, clearly startling the brunette as she immediately flung water across the room.