Mabel

24

My knees keep shaking.

I'm currently standing outside the dance studio entrance, trying to calm myself down from the revelation thrust upon me by my art teacher that I am very much in love and my goddamn knees are not letting that happen.

"May! How'd it go?"

Oh God.

"Kang really liked it. He, uh... he said it was original and... will probably score really well."

"That's awesome! Shit, guess all the caffeine crashes were worth it, huh?"

All of them except the one that hit me just as I was walking down the stairs in my dorm building and earned me a nasty bruise on, just about everywhere.

"I wish I got to see it properly before you sent it off, though. What bullshit did Kang make for the theme of it? Did he give you something like you hoped he would?"

Hah.

"Yeah, uh..." you know, just the way I feel about you and all, "He said that it seemed to follow the development of.... Love."

Kai's brow knits together at that, and he confusedly repeats, "Love?" and I kind of consider not saying any more but then my mouth decides, fuck no, son let's get this over with, and I add, "How... the viewer and the subject seemed to fall in love."

I watch as Kai stares at me, eyes wide and unblinking, a tint of pink over his face that I'm fairly certain isn't from practice because Kai blushes four hundred times a day and it's fantastic as he mumbles, "R-really... that's—"

"And I was thinking..."

"Yeah?"

"That maybe he was wrong."

Kai's expression crumbles, lip practically quivering and the reaction in itself makes my heart skip six thousand beats in a row, because out falls a soft, "Oh," from his mouth.

"Maybe the viewer didn't fall in love..." Kai's mouth opens, maybe going to agree and run off like he might've when we first met, but I cut him off before he can.

"Maybe the artist did."

"What?"

I laugh at that, because, God, here I was thinking I was dense for not picking up on Kai's feelings all of this year, but nope–looks like he's there too.

"I'm in love with you, Adkins."

"Fuck," he swears, face glowing with the prettiest amalgamation of shades no painting could ever imitate, "I love you, I—"

But he doesn't finish his sentence, instead pulling me to him by the back of my neck, crushing our lips together hastily and a little painfully but it's perfect.

I'm sure we've kissed a thousand times by now (we work fast) but this, this feels better than any other.

I can feel Kai's heart in it, the electricity soaring through us, also appreciating how Kai doesn't say anything about the taste of paint water on the my tongue.

It was an accident, by the way, I didn't just drink it on purpose.

We pull back and I take a minute to just look, look right at the person in love with me and think about how much better it is seeing this in real life, not on a canvas. Goddamn Monet couldn't even get this amount of beauty right.

"You fell for me because of my pick-up lines, right?" I, mood-killer extraordinaire, ask. 

But luckily, I chose well and Kai is every bit the huge nerd that I am, and he snorts at the question, agreeing, "Yeah, I think the angelfish one really got me."

I smirk at that, deciding to take the opportunity for one last joke before I really do run out of them.

"Well then, come over here and I just might cast you a line..."

Kai slaps a hand to his face and groans into it, before tugging on the hem of my shirt with an amused, "Come here you."

The En—

Wait, wait—no.

....

Fin.