Page 104 of Seeing Grayscale

To be honest, I’m way too comfortable here, even with this fucking distance between me and the person I want. There’s a terrible idea bubbling in my brain—one that’s surely to land me in some shit—but hopefully it’ll…do something. Make Hunter snap out of this dreary funk. Not that he was ever the most riveting person to be around, all that stoicness is kind of his personality, but I’ve seen through the cracks.

He’s shown me his nerdy, gooey center, and I want back in.

I want him toletme in.

Barreling down the stairs, I find the needed bags and head out back. It takes a whole two minutes to set up my things, and then I get to work. The smell hits me hard, reminding me why I usually cover my nose, so I whip my shirt off and tie it around my nose and mouth. Drawing by hand slowly returns to me, but I do my best with paints. The boundaries of lines are nonexistent, and I have always known I don’t belong within them.

I let the colors guide me, and I let my hopes and dreams fuel the speed at which I work through the piece. In the worst-case scenario, he hates it, and then this is all for nothing.

Maybe he’ll even get mad again—an emotion he’s hiding well as of late.

How could he not be mad? Some rich druglord comes into his office and threatens to take away everything he has…

I’d hoped that by now, that problem would be resolved. Hunter hasn’t had much to say about it, except Xavier's rescheduling. And then two nights ago, Hunter informed me he’d be going to Olympia for some hearing that his dad needs to attend. None of that made any sense to me. But that’s Monday, and today is Wednesday.

I’ve got to get him feeling good before he has to deal with all of that.

So, while I lose myself in my task at hand, hours tick by at warp speed, it’s like I blinked and the sun set, taking its light with it. The last can runs out, and I frown deeply, seeing my piece half finished. I’m tempted to steal the curtains from inside and tape them over this wall, regretting my decision to vandalize Hunter’s house. Sudden nerves pierce through me, and I am shitting myself when the garage door opens, signaling he’s here.

Oh, fuck.

He’s home and I’ve done…this.

After throwing on my shirt, I gather all the empty cans, dropping a few and cursing. My body is moving too fast, and the clinking against the concrete is so loud that I’m sure he’ll hear it. Eventually, I give up and kick them all underneath one of his lounge chairs. And that’s the exact moment he steps through the slider.

I’m covered in paint, my eyes are wide, and my mouth won’t cooperate to explain what I’ve done.

Hunter’s suit is perfectly in place, his expression unreadable as he meanders to the wall. I chew my thumb mercilessly, sweat gathering in my armpits. “Is that…a plane?”

He hates it.He hates it.

“Y-Yeah,” I wheeze before resuming my gnawing.

He slides his hands in his pockets, tips his head from side to side, and leaves me in this fucked up state of panic. “I don’t tell you enough how talented you are, Gray,” he says softly.

“I thought you’d…well, that it’d make you happy. And it’s in the back, so no one but us will see it. And—”

“I love it.” He faces me, those dimples popping in his cheeks and his eyes crinkling with how big he’s smiling. “It’s so fucking cool,” he gushes and crosses the space. Arms wrap around me, and warm lips find my sweaty forehead. “I love that it’s blue,” he coos, squeezing me harder. “I was wondering when you’d use the paints.”

I’m honestly shocked into silence. My lips flap, but nothing comes out for about ten seconds. “You…you like it? Really?”

Another big cheesy grin explodes off his cheeks as he cups my face. “It’s so cool! It’s like a F-15 Eagle mixed with a Hawker 800XP! How did you know that one is my favorite?”

I might’ve seen his bookmarked pages and discovered he’s looking to buy one. “A good guess?” I offer a smirk.

He shakes his head, laughing, and kisses me.

Relief is so strong it nearly crushes me from the inside out as I cling to him, no doubt ruining his suit with all the wet paint on my clothes. I chase his lips, urging for more,needingmore. His thumbs brush over my freshly shaven face while he nibbles and sucks my bottom lip. I don’t think he realizes how pent-up I am.

Whatever stupid reason he’s keeping around to justify protecting this line in the sand needs to go away.

I don’t want to wait anymore. And he’shappynow, happy because of me. I can tell by the way he’s touching me and how his lips reverently kiss me. It’s time, damn it.

I trace the seam of his lips with my tongue, begging for access. When he doesn’t open, I whine in protest, shoving it in anyway.Hunter groans, tasting me, wedging his leg between mine, and I bite his tongue.Hard.

“Ow!” He rips his head back, and I dig my fingers into his hips.

“Donotmake me come in my pants. Don’t do it. I want more than that, and you know it.”

---