My sketches were beginning to take on some sort of life. At the moment I was working on the full skirt of a ballgown, tapered at the waist but flowed towards the hem. It looked good, even though I knew it wouldn't be what I used as the finished product. My inspiration had come from the depression that fought for dominance every day since my talk with Macyn. As James had told me the next day, I could either mourn the loss of our family and stay inside a bubble, or use it to fuel me.

I decided to let it fuel me. If my family was going to push me away, I'd show them what a mistake it was. Or, I hoped I would show them, anyway.

Arms snaked around my neck from behind as I bent over my sketchpad, and I jumped, suppressing a shriek. Neil chuckled, his voice tickling my ear as he rested his chin on my shoulder. "Didn't mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming."

"Get off."

"Calm down, I'm not attacking you. I wanted to see what you were doing. You're an artist?"

Knowing better than to ask him to get off again, I shifted, and continued to draw. His cologne swirled up my nose, and I paused. "You're really distracting."

He laughed and lifted his weight off me, pulling out the chair beside me to sit and watch me sketch. We were at my apartment, alone. It was against my wishes, but James had gone out, without telling me where, again, and had told Neil to come check on me. Like I needed babysitting! He had some nerve, and I planned on letting him have it when he returned.

Neil knew I didn't want him there, so he'd backed off for once. He stayed in the living room and watched TV while I worked on my latest attempts for the contest. I should have known he couldn't stay occupied for long watching TV. Even though I hadn't known him long, I knew that Neil loved company. He loved to talk to someone.

"You look gorgeous when you're concentrating so hard."

"Shut up, Neil."

"I'm being serious. And you draw amazingly well. James told me you're entering some sort of contest?"

I erased a curve. "Yeah. to win a job at this fashion company, I have to create a full outfit and model it on December 15."

I was staring at my paper, but I FELT his sly grin, and waited for whatever was going to come out of his mouth.

"You know... I happen to be a model..."

A grin slipped onto my face before I could stop it. He said such stupid things, I couldn't help it. Neil gasped, mouth opened in an exaggeration that, despite how I tried to deny it, was sexy.

"You know how to smile?"

Shaking my head, I flipped my sketchpad closed. I wouldn't be getting any more work done. Not with him there. "Yes, I know how to smile."

His hand settled on my arm when I tried to get up, and I lowered back to the chair. A horn honked on the street below us, long and loud, but Neil didn't glance away as I did. He was used to it. His face sobered, and his finger traced a circle on my skin.

"Christelle?"

Eyes drawn together, I frowned, sliding my arm in towards myself. "What?"

His hand only followed. The blue in his eyes stood out, a result of the blue button-up he wore, and I found myself fidgeting. When he didn't answer, I felt myself starting to sweat. What in the world did he want?

"I've been trying to figure out a way to ask you this for a while. Trying to find the perfect way to do it. But I figured out that there's no perfect way to ask you this... Because you're you, and you won't believe I'm being serious whatever way I phrase it. So I'm just going to ask." He took my hand. "Christelle Cyrus... will you marry me?"

My face dropped back into it's natural blank slate, and I stood, leaving the kitchen. Neil followed, chuckling, and overtook me in the hallway. He grabbed my shoulders, and I glared at him. His grin was still in place.

"I'm sorry! Okay? I just wanted to see what you'd do."

"Get out of my apartment." Never again would I let him in. I didn't even understand why I'd let him in that time.

"Technically it's James' apartment. You don't pay rent. And he told me to watch you."

"I'm not a child! I can stay at home by myself and not burn the building down-"

"I know. I know. You're a grown woman. You're too sexy to be a child. I wouldn't want to be around you so much if you were a child. And if you were a child, I wouldn't be asking if I could take you to dinner on Saturday."

I stopped trying to push past him. "Huh?"

He released his grip on me and flexed his fingers. He bounced his eyebrows. "You're strong. That's kinda hot."

It took every ounce of strength in me not to smack him, it really did, but I managed to hold my temper in long enough to ask, "What are you talking about?"

"I, Neil, want to take you, Christelle, on a date. On Saturday. Are you available?"

I pressed my lips together, and shook my head. "No."

His eyes softened. "Chris, come on. I was joking earlier. I really want to-"

"I can't. I'm sorry. Look, I have to work on my sketches some more, so I'd like for you to leave." I couldn't believe he'd asked. I couldn't believe I'd declined. But then... I could believe it. I couldn't go on a date with him. That was madness.

There was silence as he watched me, and I watched the carpet as I ran my toes through it. He started towards me, pushed my chin up. His smile lacked it's usual cockiness, instead a genuine and sincere curve to his lips.

"You're a beautiful woman, Christelle. I know you don't see it, but it's true, no matter how you try to hide it with all these clothes. Beautiful, and real. You don't try to impress me, like most girls-"

"Because I can't impress you. It would be no use trying."

He nodded, head moving up and down without much speed, but I knew he wasn't agreeing with me. I believed that he believed what he'd said. He wasn't lying to me. He thought I was beautiful.

"I'll go, but could I ask you to think about it?"

I met his eyes. "Yeah, I'll think about it."

"Thank you." He held my gaze for a few moments longer, lowered his hand from my chin, and left.

Leaning against the wall in the hallway, I touched the spot where his fingers had been moments before, and a smile forced it's way to my face.