Dylan's POV

My new plan of ignoring the Zach didn't turn out all too successful. Perhaps it would have worked if I had been able to decide over matters myself, but Ms. Demet had other plans. Art class turned into a disaster.

"You will be working on a project together with your bench partner until Friday," she chirped, perfectly aware of the grumbling reaction she got from the students. She enjoyed messing with her students, I'd noticed. I sighed and looked over at Zach, knowing that I might as well get it over with. Moping and complaining wouldn't work. Ignoring him wouldn't work. Instead, I put my most utilized defense system into action: sarcasm and general obnoxiousness. It felt wrong to treat him like that, but it was even worse to show him how vulnerable he made me.

I couldn't afford to be vulnerable.

Ms. Demet moved between the tables. "You will get a large canvas, and the point of this is that you will come up with a joint idea of what to paint. Merge your talents, bring out the best of each other." She smiled brightly. "The theme is relations, which you can interpret freely. Now, get going." She finished with two firm hand claps.

This was just getting better and better. In truth, I wanted to run away and hide, but I refused to back down. I wouldn't let this get to me. I was a happy guy, not some teary little baby boy. That thought got me an idea. I was going to make him so wonderfully uncomfortable, and I would smile throughout the torture. I knew I wasn't nice, but I didn't care. This was for my own sanity which I valued a great deal more than Zach.

"Hey babe, what do you want to paint?" I asked, staring at him with a mock-sweet expression.

I held off an approaching laughter as I saw him look at me with horror in his eyes, eyebrows reaching for the ceiling. I'd never seen him react in such a violent manner before. It gave me power over him, and even though I knew it was wrong to crave such a thing, it felt vital at this point. If I didn't get the upper hand, my destruction was imminent. My heart was too invested, but it was a poisonous reality-one that I had to divert.

"Shut up," he said, his voice cold but also strained, like he was fighting for the words to reach from his throat. Despite my newfound conviction of ignoring my emotions for him, the cold tone made my chest ache uncomfortably.

"Oh, I like it when you're dominant..." I countered, ignoring the pain inside of me.

His eyebrows rose again, then he almost threw himself away from the table, letting the chair clatter to the floor behind him. The room silenced as he went over to the shelves hanging on the far wall to retrieve the supplies we needed. The buzz rose from the silence as he made his way back and sat down next to me.

"So, dominant you say..." he said, drawing out the words seductively, making my heart speed up inside my chest. "Which colors do you want to use? Red?" His words sent jolts of electricity throughout my trembling body. His face, his words, everything took me completely by surprise, and I realized that he had turned my strategy against me. I could be the one losing this game. Fuck!

I tried to suppress it, I tried to turn it into something else, anything else than this ridiculous crush for the guy. I pulled my walls up, excruciatingly slow, but I did it. I did it and I smirked, determined once again to win this-whatever it was.

"Oh, red sounds perfect!" I replied, letting my voice drop into a husky tone.

He pushed out a little of the red color onto the palette, took hold of a delicate brush and dipped it into the deep red acryl. I watched him swirl it, then I followed it as it slowly came closer and closer to me. I broke my stare, instead getting caught in his cold eyes, completely mesmerized. I felt the brush touch my lower lip, the color cool against it. I wanted to groan at the sensual feeling-a feeling that resonated through my body all the way down to my crotch.

He leaned forwards, whispering into my ear, "Breathe..."

I inhaled, claiming a part of reality to push me out of the daze, blinking-mortified at how easily he did this to me. Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I managed to calm down, but not enough to lose the indiscreet bulge that had formed in the most stupid of places.

"Oh baby, you turn me on!" I found myself saying, causing quite a fair amount of gasps to rise around us. Damn, I had said that too loud.

"Boys! You're not painting!" Ms. Demet's voice called out behind us, making it perfectly clear that she would drag us out of there by our ears if we didn't start.

I turned back towards Zach again, and suddenly I wished that I knew what was going on inside that head of his. His stone face was intact, but he looked at me with eyes that seemed to try to tell me something... I just didn't know what.

While I was lost in confusion, Zach turned his back toward me and started painting. His brush strokes were harsh, almost tearing the canvas with the red color. I took up my brush and joined in, painting my frustration, my questions. I painted our relationship.

The colors merged with each other and so did our strokes. We didn't look at each other, we didn't speak, and for the first time since we met I was completely relaxed. The tension between us just poured itself out on the canvas, leaving me alone, finally.

I don't know how long we stood there. I didn't hear the bell. I didn't see when the others left. I was just aware of Zach beside me, aware of him and our emotions weaving into each other by the strokes of our brushes.

As one we took a step away, as if we both knew that we had made our last contribution. That we were finished.

"Interesting."

We both startled at the sound of Ms. Demet's voice. I looked around and realized that we were alone with her: all the other students were gone. I met her gaze and her slightly mischievous smile-a smile to make me uncomfortable.

"I think you better go home before your parents get worried," she added, arching an eyebrow behind those horn-rimmed glasses.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"I gave you slips for your other lessons since I didn't want to interrupt you," she said, but still not answering the simple question I had asked.

I looked at clock on the wall behind me and was shocked to see how late it was, that's when I realized that it was dark outside the huge panorama windows. Mom would be livid by now.

"So, see you tomorrow boys. I need to lock the door, then I'll lead you out of here" she said, ushering us out of the room.

The hallways were empty, which wasn't such a great shocker as it was 8 pm. It felt really weird, almost haunting. It reminded me of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and that didn't exactly help.

Suddenly there was a loud slam, and I nearly jumped out of my skin until I heard Zach laughing. The asshole, he had done that on purpose, hitting one of the lockers as we passed. I glared at him, but couldn't really hold it. The sound if his laughter was enough to make me hot and bothered again.

"Boys, calm down before security comes and asks me what I'm doing with you here after hours." Ms. Demet's voice was stern as always.

That's when we shared our very first smile together, grinning at her reaction. I had never seen anything more stunning in my life. His face... completely open. Then, just like that, he froze. His smile faltered. A brief flash of fear seemed to spark in his eyes before they went completely blank. My heart halted, sinking slowly in my chest. It hurt. It hurt me more than anything had ever done before. Why? Why did he give me these glimpses? Why was he making it so hard to let him go?

I realized that I had seen something that he didn't want me to see. I had seen a part of him. I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to shake him violently for letting me through and then kicking me out again as if he wanted to pretend it never happened in the first place.

He didn't meet my eyes again until we were outside, outside in the comfort of the dark. He grabbed hold of my wrist, yanking me back as I was heading to my car, heading away from him. I stopped, and he took a step forwards, into my space and into my chest. I felt myself becoming unsteady, my knees betraying me.

He began to trail a finger along my chin, tilting my head so that I looked into his eyes. Then he captured my lips, molding them to his. It started out so soft-softer than I had expected.

I snaked an arm around him, my fingers tugging lightly at his dark hair. The other one locked around him to keep me steady-to keep me from falling. He pressed me further into his body and I let him take charge. I let his kiss take me away. A kiss that turned from soft to raging, from tender to desperate. A kiss to get lost in...and I did.