*An hour before*

Brax pulls up in front of my garage, and I thank him for the lift before piling awkwardly out of his car. He takes off in a rush, the tires of his Nissan giving a small chirp on the asphalt as he rounds the corner and out of sight. I don't blame him for being glad to be rid of me. I know he was right in what he said, how he hoped I'd grown out of this. I want to believe I've matured somewhat; tonight was just a step backwards. I'm allowed that, to let myself feel this pain instead of evading it.

I drop my gaze from the dimly lit street as the sky begins to drizzle. A cold and lonely house awaits, I ought to be used to that by now. Unlatching the gate on the side of the garage, I head to the back door. The path through the yard is completely shrouded, but I don't need to see it to know where it is roughly. I wade through the stomach-high weeds grumbling in the dark. All these rains lately have encouraged my neglected garden into becoming wilder.

The toe of my sneaker kicks something in my path, and I hear a metallic clang. Whenever I do find motivation for gardening the last thing I want is to mow over it and destroy my lawnmower. I search in the tall grass with my hands groping for whatever it is I sent flying. My hands clasp a solid object, and I pull out a rusted old spray can. I give it a shake, but it's completely empty.

Clasping the spray can, is a reminder of the other things Brax said to me tonight. "I used to be envious that you knew what you wanted to be and were already so talented at it," his words echo around me. Was he just trying to distract me from Ava, or was that the truth?

It's so much easier to listen to the negative doubts in my head than believe he meant what he said. But it's made me curious, can I even remember how to paint?

I turn back, heading for the garage and unlock it. Flicking the light on, the barrenness of the triple garage still haunts me. It used to house my pride and joy, an old Ford Mustang. Even though my father was a monster he had nice taste in cars at least. Other than the house, it was the only thing I'd inherited, but I'd destroyed it. It was a complete write-off when I crashed it, hurting Brax and some poor old man in the process. I shake off the dark memories from two years ago and shift my gaze to the row of shelves on the sidewall—all my spray cans and paint line the row. I haven't touched them in so long; they're all neatly stacked from my Nan's last clean up but a layer of dust coats them.

Wading over I clasp the first can on the shelf. There aren't any canvases, but the bare walls of the stark garage call out to me, just begging to be vandalised. It's been a long time since I've painted, but the shake of the can feels familiar and right. I uncap the lid, checking the nib is clear and begin.

I take a few steps back to admire my piece, my lines are rough, but it's not bad for someone out of practice. It's easy to see who I've painted, a cartoon version of Ava's beautiful face stares back at me from the bricks. My fingers reach out and touch the wet paint depicting her beautiful red lips. It's pathetic of me, but I miss her so much already.

My head spins from the paint fumes in the confined space. I forgot all about my respirator, regardless it's probably caked in dust and needs new filters. I exit the garage to discover the weather has picked up from its drizzle into a steady downpour. Seeking the shelter of the tin patio, my feet rush through the overgrown tangle.

I'm more than a little bewildered to see the glimmer of light edging the blinds. My heart pounds in my chest, could Ava be home? Surely I just left it on, but I can't help as my chest grows tight, flooding me with newfound hope. After unlocking the back door and sliding it open, my heart races not knowing what to expect. I hone in on Ava almost instantly; she's frozen on the stairwell, staring down at me.

"You're here," I murmur in surprise. My painting didn't do her any justice at all, she's achingly beautiful, but more importantly, she's present. We've both taken a few steps closer, slowly gravitating towards each other.

"I'm here," she says without explanation. "Is that OK?" Ava asks, sounding anxious.

I nod and take another step forward into the light. The room feels tense and awkward and I run my hand through my hair, not knowing what to say to her anymore. "I didn't think I'd see you again," I admit and watch as her face takes me in, changing to shock.

*Present time*

"Are you OK, Trey?" Ava gasps out.

I follow her gaze to see what she's stressing about. That's when I notice the red paint coating my hands and sleeves. It looks like I've cut myself, badly. Not only did I forget my respirator, but I should have worn my coveralls too.

"Ava, it's not what you think. It's just red paint."

She takes a cautious step forward looking me up and down as if making sure I'm intact. I glance down, seeing the spatter of blue paint on my pants and the tops of my sneakers. "See I got blue all over my pants and shoes as well, I should have worn my coveralls." I motion to thread my hand through my hair again when I remember the paint and let it drop.

"Thank goodness," Ava's shoulders sink in relief. I try not to over-read her concern though a part of me desperately wants to. "So, I... um, thought you were out," Ava says in a small voice. I try to silence the hopeful thoughts blooming in my mind, does she care?

"Yeah, I caught up with Brax, and after he dropped me off, I did some painting in the garage." I swallow roughly conscious of my dry throat. The throbbing of my head is getting hard to ignore.

Ava takes another small step forward toward me. "Can we talk Trey? I left a lot of things unsaid last night, and I would like to explain if you'd let me?" I clasp the back of the couch as I feel myself teeter from a wave of dizziness.

"I need water," I gasp out, barreling towards the kitchen. Unable to find any water bottles, I snatch up a carton of juice. I chug down half of it and turn to see Ava eyeing me with concern in the kitchen archway. "I'm just feeling sick off the paint fumes," I mutter by way of explanation, omitting the fact alcohol is probably playing its part as well.

"Why don't you lie down if you feel unwell?" Ava recommends, and I nod dully, striding past her to stretch across the couch. Clamping my eyes shut to the bright overhead light;  I hear her rummaging in the kitchen and wonder if she's fussing over me. A man can dare to dream.

Ava's soft footsteps on the floorboards alert me to her presence, but I'm startled when she places a damp cloth on my forehead. A faded memory reminds me that my grandma used to do the same when I had a fever.

"Take deep breaths, I'll dim the light," Ava soothes. I hate how she's always seeing me at my worst, nauseous from fumes, legless drunk, or mid-panic attack. But she never makes me feel embarrassed; I guess it's one of the many things I adore about her.

I close my lids again and perceive when the room is dimmed. I feel it when the couch sinks beside me. "I'm sorry I made you worry. I really didn't think you'd be here," I murmur and hear her sharp intake of breath.

"You're not the one that should be apologising. The way I left things yesterday... I can only imagine what you must think," she says quietly. Her voice is so soft and soothing that I feel my body relax into the couch despite the pounding of my head. The wet cloth slips down, and I feel her gentle fingers pull it up on my temple. She brushes against my hair, making me sigh in contentment.

"You have red paint in your hair," she explains. The throbbing of my head seems to dissipate, and I feel myself sinking into unconsciousness. Her touching me again even though it's innocent is the most wonderfully unexpected thing.

"Mmm," I manage to hum, and it's the last thing I remember before falling asleep on the couch, dreaming of piercingly blue eyes and red lips like velvet.

~

Author's note:  Hello lovelies, hope you are well. I wanted to end this chapter on a short and sweet note. I hope you like it. If only life was a little sweeter... if only. Take care and try to be the reason someone smiles today. Xo