Mabel

19

It's a clean two months later by the time I've well and truly exhausted every fish pick-up line under the sun (I researched more and everything—I even asked Luca) and by that stage, I was honestly also just plain exhausted because art drains.

Art is like a leech that you think is just too nice to prevent from sucking all of your blood out of your body.

"Funny, I think love's like that too," Talia said one night when she was feeling particularly philosophical (someone offered her the shadiest fruit punch ever at a party we went to a few weeks back and she was smashed in three sips).

I choked on my drink (chocolate milk because I'm a fucking adult) and looked at my friend with an air of outright skepticism.

"What do you know about love?"

Talia's face then chameleon'd to match the orange-red hue of her punch and she took another long gulp before brushing it off by greeting someone she didn't know across the room.

The least subtle person I've ever seen in my entire life.

Actually... Morin could be slightly worse. 

But regardless, my chameleon friend may actually be right.

Then again, I wouldn't know. I simply don't have time for love. I'm mature and only have time for important things, like art... fish...

And Kai Adkins (cue all of my friends groaning in the background–for various reasons).

After my fourth late night in a row because of Kang, I think my mind has melted down to a whole lot of mush seeing as how I just tried to take a bite out of an orange oil pastel thinking it was a dustless Cheeto.

Those would probably taste slightly worse than an oil pastel, I reckon.

And it's just when I set the stupid thing back down, a little more disappointed than I should be, that the studio doors swing open and my eyes flicker shut.

When they flicker back open, there he is. The prettiest human on campus.

Unless I'm dreaming. Then he's the prettiest human I can dream of.

But, no, it must be real, because I definitely feel real pain when Kai asks "Hey, May—are you alright?" And, in order to raise my head, I have to rip my cheek from a generous splat of dried acrylic on a loose page.

Once I've sworn under my breath at that, I try to compose myself and get out of the state of delirium I'm in, only to become more delirious just looking at all that beauty. Sigh.

"Oh, yeah, hey Kai—yeah, no... I'm just..." it doesn't go well. My eyes begin to flutter and I feel my head dip back down onto the page.

I really hope there's no more acrylic on there. Or worse, super glue.

Talia spent a full hour trying to remove my hand from my cheek when I fell asleep at midterms.

Kai sounds amused, nonetheless, because he chuckles in that sweet 'you're so stupid' way that I really shouldn't let him get away with so often and jests, "Wow, no pick-up line?"

I can't even process those words for a full five seconds.

My brain goes through a progression of what's a pick-up line to where did the expression 'wow' even come from and why is Kai here? Why are any of us here? Before I understand what he even asked.

No, no pick-up lines. It's been a long few months with an astounding result of not working at all and I can barely remember my name right now, never mind a stupid joke. 

"No.." I mumble, words muffled slightly by the charcoaled sleeve of my shirt (I'm probably going to have a smudge of that on my cheek) and my hair which is getting far too long but also looks dope and Kai likes it so why cut it when I can suffer with its aggravating length.

Fashion, like art (and love if you're Talia, probably), is suffering.

"I'm done with those," I tiredly tell him, trying to stop my eyes from closing with slow, sleepy blinks but they do anyway when I add, "they don't work."

Any other time I definitely wouldn't have said that. But sleepy Mabel is no-filter Mabel. And I already have a pretty shitty filter in full, energized awareness.

"What do you mean?" He sounds as if I'm talking nonsense and I am, but also am not.

They don't work.

Kai hasn't flirted back or whatever the original intent was and I've lost all amusement in it because it just got depressing.

"They just... don't..." I dismiss, raising my head from my arm again and sure enough, there's something on my cheek because Kai's eyes flicker to it and he laughs, lightly, leans down and tries smudging it with his thumb, smoothing it off with a few quick wipes and while my brain is living for the lack of space between us and my heart is just about the opposite, I don't move back.

Which is... interesting. Because I'm pretty sure this is far too close for regular conversation.

Or any conversation.

My gaze runs up Kai's face to meet his, and don't mean to swallow so hard, staring into those rounded Series A, Shade Number 381 - Vandyke Brown eyes.

And I think, definitely not for the first time by any means, God, he is so beautiful.

Kai blinks a few times, eyelashes fluttering at me, pupils darting up and down my face like they can't quite keep still and it's as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip that I feel a weird sense of nervousness overcome me in the unfortunate form of a nauseating knot in one of my vital organs.

"Try it again," He says. No explanation, no nothing—just a look akin to concentration harassing his features.

"Again?" I parrot and Kai nods twice, with haste. Eyes not breaking from mine anymore.

"One more."