Picking up my paintbrush, I dip it into the gold. It’s the only color I haven’t touched. Not until now. With a deep breath, I bring my brush to the painting. I keep it light, using just the tiniest bit.
A break in the rain, the quiet after a big snow, a candle flickering in an otherwise dark room. Not enough to overwhelm. Just enough to notice.
I’ve been afraid to use gold. To see it. To feel it. To even think about it, really. Today, it doesn’t feel as scary.
The sound of footsteps catches my attention, and I lean to the side, looking around my canvas to see Landon. My heart lurches. He looks… soft. There’s something vulnerable about seeing him like this. Eyes bleary, barefoot in a pair of sweats.
When he sees me, he stops, then leans against the doorway. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I rasp out, then clear my throat.
“You were up early.”
I smile. “Too many colors, you know? I had to get them out.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, actually.”
“Come sit by me?” I ask softly. He hesitates for a second, and my defenses rear to the surface, but before I can tell him never mind, he’s padding across the floor.
He sits down beside my canvas but doesn’t look at it. Something about that warms my heart. I pat the floor next to me. “Over here if you want. You can look at it.”
His lips curve into a small smile, but he shuffles closer, and after a couple of seconds, glances up at the painting.
While he looks at it, I watch him. His eyes take it in, moving slowly. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Thanks. It doesn’t feel like pain this time.”
Landon stares at the painting for a second longer before dragging his gaze away and finding mine. “What does it feel like now?”
I bite my lip. How much is too much to tell him? Is there a limit to that? Do I eventrustthat I can be that open? I mean, I think I can. Hell, I’m sitting on my floor letting someone look at my fresh painting. But not just someone. Landon.
Landon, with his shy smiles, his earnest eyes, and his perpetual blush. Landon, whose breath caught when Ben kissed him. Landon, who reminded me I get to try again.
I rest my head against his shoulder, staring at the painting. He startles, his body stiffening for a second before he relaxes again. I’m not sure I can look at him while I say this. I’m not sure if I should be saying it at all, but I think I have to.
“It feels like waking up this morning.”
Landon’s quiet, then, “I’m still not sure what that means.”
“When I woke up, it was still dark. The sun hadn’t even come up yet. But you had your arm around me. Around my waist, specifically. And Ben’s hair was tickling my neck. He had his arm on yours, by the way.” At first, that had made me jealous, but the more I stared at the way Ben had his fingers loosely gripping Landon’s arm where it rested over my lower stomach, the more my heart fluttered.
I sit up so I can look at him. “It was nice, you know?”
Landon nods slowly. This feels entirely too intimate. He’s so close. We’re practically in each other’s laps, and it feels like my heart is about to explode.I’m not used to being open like this. Especially not about my art, and definitely not about my colors.
“I just had to get them out, you know?” Landon’s face twists. “The colors,” I clarify. “I didn’t want to move, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.”
A throat clears, and Landon and I both jump. “So, what did the colors mean the other day?” Ben asks. Jesus. I didn’t even realize he was standing there. “If it’s okay to ask. I’m sorry to intrude.”
I shake my head. “Not an intrusion.” And how do I mean those words so much? “Come sit?”
Much like Landon did, Ben makes his way across the room, then sits down on the other side of me.
“The colors before were weird.”
“Weird how?” Ben asks, eyes greedily taking in my painting, like if he stares hard enough, he’ll find all the things I keep hidden.
“First it was all purple, you know? Everything. Me, you, and Landon. Just all these shades of purple. We were wrapped in it, and it was dripping off us. And then you kissed.” I stop talking abruptly, not sure if I should go on. Not surehowto.
