prince ♛ cole mackenzie

17 | your hobby

Cole stood beneath the stage, looking up at a half-complete painting of a forest. A stroke of crimson had escaped the plumage of a bird on a birch tree branch. Silas took a deep breath and moved towards him.

"Cole," he greeted.

The golden-haired boy turned to him in surprise.

"Oh, Silas, hey."

Cole's arm was tied in a sling, he noticed.

"Your arm . . ."

"Yeah, I know. I fell. My wrist broke," he explained, "No more drawing."

"No more drawing," Silas repeated softly.

He walked forward to stand beside the taller boy. They studied the unfinished painting in silence.

Silas spoke. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I was feeling sick."

"That's okay. You wouldn't have wanted to, anyway. It was pretty terrible," Cole gave a sad kind of laugh.

"I could've helped you."

"It doesn't matter, anyway. You know, the Christmas Pantomime's on tomorrow tonight. You're not acting, are you?"

"Definitely not. Do you wanna go with me?"

Cole's cheeks turned a rosy shade. "Yeah. Sure."

Silas reached his hand to Cole's and squeezed it gently. Just then, the doors burst open.

The pair dropped their hands instantly and faced the sudden group of girls that had entered, lead by Moody Spurgeon.

"What are you all doing here?" Cole asked.

"We went to your house to check on you, but your folks said that you came here. Hi, Silas," Anne explained.

"Can we help you?" said Diana.

"If you tell us what to do, maybe we can do it together," Jane added. She shot an amused look at Silas.

Moody approached the stage excitedly. "I've always wanted to be a painter!"

"Moody!" Cole called, "Let me talk you all through it first."

They rushed forward to the stage giggling. Silas rubbed his arm, unsure of how his attempt at painting would turn out. The smile Cole sent his way banished the thought, though, making him feel better about the day ahead.

* * * * *

"Ruby Gillis isn't so bad at painting," Silas said as they walked to the den. "Better than me, anyway."

"Anyone's better than you at painting, Si."

"I appreciate the support."

"What are your hobbies?" asked Cole.

"Hobbies? Oh, I don't know. Petting dogs is nice, I guess."

"That's not a hobby."

"Okay, then, uhm, spending time with you."

stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid,

Silas scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, in the den. Talking. You know."

"I know."

They reached the wooden hut and climbed inside.

i should tell him about yesterday.

"I'm really sorry about your wrist, Cole," he began.

"It's fine. You didn't do anything, you don't have to apologise."

"I heard what happened."

"Billy Andrews is a beast."

"I tried to get him back. I really did. I'm sorry it didn't work," Silas blurted out.

"What did you do?"

"I went to his house. He was with Charlie Sloane."

"Oh, Si. You're an idiot," Cole sighed.

"Maybe that's my hobby."

Cole laughed. Silas looked over at him, seeing only sunshine.