I don't know how to paint.

That was pretty clear by the area Y/N had left me to paint. It was streaky and not even finished. It was a small area and I had been at it for nearly an hour now. Y/N had a radio and so we had been listening to the music from our local station and dancing to the ridiculous noise people call 'Main stream music'. She had managed to paint her area to an amazingly detailed degree whilst I just slapped the roller onto the wall and hoped for the best.

Watching Y/N dance to the music as though her whole world hadn't gone through a meat grinder was an experience. I didn't know whether to be happy for her or sad. Was she dancing to release everything pent up in her mind or dancing because she was having fun... with me.

The terrible dance moves which she was spewing out gave me my answer; dancing to have fun but not necessarily with me. She danced by herself like no one was watching. 'Dad dancing' is the only way I could describe it. You would think working in a club she would've learnt a move or two but no, she danced like a 14-year-old at a school disco, wired on sugar and friendless.

Unfortunately, my attempts to distract her with my dancing so she wouldn't see my awful paint job failed. The look on her face sent us both into a fit of hysterical laughing.

"Stop! Leave it alone, I really tried!" I wined through my laughter as she pointed to the wall in disbelief.

"Did you do it blindfolded and with your feet?!" She teased me.

I missed this. I missed hearing her laugh which was obnoxiously loud but addictive.

"You're normally good with your hands"

With that sentence our laughter came to a silence and we both look at each other. She stared at me as though she hadn't said anything inappropriate. My face looked as though she just told me she loved me... I wish.

"Don't blush too hard" I add after seeing her expression and the way she fiddled with the paint covered roller in her hand.

God, I love that I have this effect on her. Unlike before, I'm the one in control.

Even though I could rip her clothes off and do everything i know she wants us to do... I won't. That would be too easy for her. After everything I've been through with her and Florence, I am not jumping into anything any time soon. Especially not with Elizabeth.

As a Taylor Swift song came on, we both went back to singing and painting. Well, I went back to painting. Elizabeth went back to slapping paint on a wall like a toddler.

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me?

You belong with me

As the song came to an end and so did my singing which sounded more like an animal mating call, I hear Elizabeth blurt out "What are we?"

She threw her arms down by her side in a dramatic way before turning to me, anticipating my reply.

I stayed looking at my wall, continuing the painting as I left her for a few moments to ponder my reply.

I shake my head, shrug and shift my weight on my feet a few times.

"Friends, right?" I say with a confused look as I look to the woman who I can tell is hurt. She nods through the pain.

"Of course, yeah... duh" she says with a smile which I can see right through. Does she really think I'm just going to accept her apology, which she hasn't even given to me, and move on? Act like she didn't ruin my marriage and blame her fragile pride on me?

Sorry but no, I wouldn't let that happen. I won't.

As the radio turned to the presenters speaking about the latest gossip, I looked over to her. She painted the wall with less enthusiasm. She really did want to be more than friends, didn't she?

As I stood looking at her my hand and paint roller raised into the air above my head before I thrashed it back down to my side, sending a spray of glittery black paint in the direction of Lizzie. I covered my mouth as i watched it land landscape across her side, reaching from the top of eyebrow to her hip. Her once white shirt was now stained black and her perfect skin was decorated with the same substance. The noise which left her sent me into a spiral of laughter as she turned to look at me, looking down at her clothes.

She made her way over to me, angrily. I watched as she gripped her paint roller but I reach my hands forward.

"I don't know what happened! Hey, hey, let me help" I say in a reassuring way, luring her into my touch as I cupped her cheeks. My thumbs moving to smear the black paint further across her face and over the bridge of her nose and her lips. She spat out the paint I had just leaked into her mouth and into my face.

It was the start to a war.

After 30 minutes of running around, dodging the paint bullets which we sprayed towards each other, she finally surrendered.

I was pretty covered in paint but considering my trousers were black dickies and my shirt was a dark grey, I wasn't bothered. She looked far more distressed than I did. My eyes didn't leave her as she tied up her hair into a pony tail above me. I had thrown her to the floor minutes before and that was when she shrieked for a surrender. She stood up, looking down at me before grabbing the brush next to me and smearing it across my chest.

"That was just an excuse to touch my tits." I exclaimed with my arms spread out holding my now wet shirt away from my chest.

"I don't need an excuse to touch your tits" She replied as she crouched down in front of me, my back being against a wall as I caught my breath. She dipped her finger onto the wet paint which was pooling around my cleavage and brought it back up to my face.

I can only assume what she painted onto my face and considering the smirk on her face its definitely a penis.

I didn't flinch as she touched me but instead, I just watched her bite her lip in concentration as she created the artwork on my forehead and cheeks.

Me clearing my throat and standing up was my week attempt at stopping myself from doing something I know I shouldn't.

I'm stronger than that.

I dusted my hands off on my pants considering the floor of the club was rather dusty from all the plasterboard on it. Turning around to look in the mirror which was slightly covered by a tarp I had put over it in the hopes of it not getting paint on it. I pulled the tarp down and immediately threw it at Elizabeth who was in the process of standing up.

" 'SLUT' Really?!" I said as I rubbed at the word on my forehead but it barely flaked off. "Kinky" I said as I looked to her with a wink. She fumbled to get up before standing beside me as she looked into the mirror.

We stood for a few heart beats, looking at each other through the reflection. Her hand moved up my back and to my shoulder closest to her. "Elizabeth..." I whispered but she continued to move closer to me, still looking at me through the mirror. We swayed to the music, I turned around so we could be face to face. 

"Friends, right?" She teased my earlier comment to which right now didn't hold up. A smile crept onto her face. I was definitely wanting to be more than friends right now.

"Friends" I whispered back unconvincingly.

As her eyes glanced from my eyes to my lips, I clenched my jaw.

"You know you haven't said sorry yet." I break the tension and the same bitchy face appears.

"I'm supposed to say sorry?" She retorted.

"Yeah, for gaslighting me into thinking I was a selfish bitch" I said back. We weren't arguing, I don't think but instead having a debate? I don't know, we aren't yelling but we aren't being civil.

"Gaslighting? That's a bit extreme, Y/N. I'm sorry, you aren't selfish... You are a bitch" she says, finishing her sentence off with a small laugh.

As she walked back over to the wall she was painting, I simply dragged over a bar stool and placed it a distance from the wall, next to the radio. "You can observe. I don't want you ruining this wall anymore."

"Don't paint over it!" She exclaimed as she sat down, looking at me with needy eyes.

"It'll forever be a reminder of today" My heart throbbed at the idea of her wanting to keep this memory. This girl is something else. I really do love her. I think.

"So, I'm supposed to keep this terribly painted wall here for you?" I ask.

"For us" There goes my heart feeling as though I'm having palpitations. I looked at her, not saying a word but just taking in everything. I didn't know how to feel.

"I'll buy you a new laptop if you keep it" She adds when she thinks I'm not giving into her pleads.

"Bet" I say with a smug smile, moving to paint on a different area of wall.

"I would've kept it there for the memories..." My smile grows larger as she shakes her head and rolls her eyes at me, unimpressed by my remark.

As it gets to 11pm and the sky turns black we gather my tools and put them in my bag before locking it in the staff room. On our way out the back, I stand next to the red door as she walks outside.

"I'm not thanking you for your help today. If anything, you've made it so I have more work to do" I joke, leaning my head on the door frame as I watch her put her phone into her over the shoulder purse.

"Shut up" She replies, turning to give me a playful glare. We stand around for a few moments as she fumbles for her keys in her bag. "Today was fun" I let the silence be disrupted.

"It was" she says with a nod, looking to me but having to push the hair out of her face as the breeze caused it to become a mess in her face.

"I need a shower." She says, signalling down to the paint covered clothes she was still wearing.

"I still have to unpack my things" I said, glancing back to the stairs which led up to my old apartment.

"Oh, ill help! You only had to ask; you know I'd help!"

"You've helped enough today" I gave her a smirk.

"Fine, I'll take my exceptional painting and unpacking skills home" she say which makes my smile grow larger. I missed bantering like this. Hearing her try to keep her laughs in as we waited to see who would give in first.

"Get home safe, I love-" I spoke as I turned around to enter my apartment, freezing as those 3 words almost left my lips. I could feel her freeze as well.; her eyes locked onto me and her teeth gripping my lower lip like I had just almost said 'I love you' ...

"Have a good night, Y/N" She broke the silence as I stared at the red door beside me, picking some of the flaking paint off like I was examining it, not wanting to look over to her. She touched my arm to say 'bye' before getting into her car and driving off.

Why did her touch make my stomach clench? Make it feel as though someone has done flips inside of me? Fuck.