Sally X Larry One Shots

Absorb.

   'Is it wrong for a best friend to look at him like that? To absorb himself in every color, every texture, every smell?'

   Larry Johnson sat on the edge of his bed in thought as he sketched an image in a small leather bound book, a small platelet of water color beside him, the color blue wet and primed for use. He remembered a quote from a book he had been reading, one by Oscar Wilde. He said it aloud.

   "I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself."

   As the words slipped from his tobacco stained tongue he let their meaning fuel the movement of his hand, and the pencil that resided within its grasp. To him, the very essence of Sal Fisher was a presence to behold. Every statement he made out of typical conversation was a savored concept he had to hold onto. His beliefs, his boundaries, his interests, and all that encompassed him was study. Their conversations were never substantial, but when they were Larry felt almost inclined to act on urges he wanted to deny. He didn't know if it was really right to feel so infatuated with someone he's done so much with. He mulled over every time they discussed religion and the afterlife regarding all the ghosts and demons of Addison apartments and what that meant for theism. Every idea Sally had was like a new view on everything he'd ever seen. Was it really appropriate to have such an infatuation with someone he respects so much and still has such a casual dynamic with?

   He re-adjusted his focus back to his brush. He painted gold shining off of every stroke of blue.