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It’s safe to say Jack Kelly had attachment issues, even though he’d never admit it. He never wanted to settle on a girl for longer than a week, making up dumb excuses like “I’m too busy with work, doll” or “I just don’t think I’m the right guy for you” or the crowd favorite, “You deserve better than an artsy newsboy, don’t cha?”. No matter what, he found a way to disappear.
I loved his art. Painting places you can only see in your head, no, in your heart , that took talent. His backdrops were perfect in every which way, I always wished he spent more time painting than messing around with the guys.
“Mind passing me that brush?” His face has streaks of paint all over, and his palette is completely covered in various shades of sunset hues. I toss the paintbrush to him, continuing to sit on the small stool Medda brought me.
“If you’re going to admire him, you might as well be comfortable while doing so.” She said as the stool was placed down, my face turned a red brighter than the paints.
“You’re really talented, ya know that?”
He chuckles. “Medda tells me that everyday, sweetheart.”
“I’m serious! Your work should be in museums, for everyone to admire. You should be hanging your paintings in the Louvre, right next to the Mona Lisa!” I stand up, my poetic tongue tying the words together.
“Alright, calm down. It’s a couple mountains with a sunset.” He scoffs
“You- you always sell yourself short. Thinking you’re not good enough. You’re just enough for me, Jack Kelly.” I find myself gripping his shoulders, looking him right in those crystal-blue eyes of his. What the hell am I thinking?
I’m thinking about the way his eyes look, the pure shock on his face. His eyes, once stormy, have cleared to be crystal.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment.
God, I made a big mistake.
He pushes my arms down.
He hates me, he must hate me!
He pulls me in, his stubble rough on my skin. His lips smooth on my own.
What just happened?
I don’t let go. I don’t push away. I stand there, and I take it. I take his love, even as his tongue sneaks into my mouth. I take it, as he holds my face tight, like he’ll never let go. Neither of us seem to pull away, we just stop . My breathing is heavy and hot as I look at him.
“I got some paint on your face.” He breaks the silence, and for a moment he masks his grin, but it pushes through. It’s goofy, like he wants to laugh.
“Did ya?” I say, his smile is so damn contagious.
He pulls me back in, his lips now familiar to my senses.
The smell of paint, cheap cologne, and the city create a sensation in my nose I’ve never felt. The bit of stubble feels good as it rests on my cheeks. His small “I love you”s in between kisses sounds like the birds chirping in the mornings. His kisses taste of coffee, toothpaste, and a little bit of..chocolate?
“I..I love ya, darlin’.” He gives me a slight smile, still holding my face in his hands, his own face inches from mine.
“I love you, too. Cowboy.” I smirk at the little nickname I have for him.
“We should..we should do this again sometime.” I can tell he’s still taken aback by what just went down backstage. I nod, empathetic to his emotions.
“We should.” I smile, looking up at him.
“God, you two are so damn lovesick.” We turn to see Race and Spot.
“I..uh..” Jack stammers for an answer, a quick-witted response. He fails to find one. I can’t help but smile, and giggle. He’s mine. I’m his. It’s like one of Davey’s books, only so much better.
You got me, Helpless