Shadows You Left Behind.

I swung my legs like a child under the desk, trying to avoid the disgusting blobs of gum that had been stuck to the bottom of the tables, maybe they'd been left there up to ten years ago. I never understood why teenagers felt the need to stick their gross mouth juices mixed with weird edible latex onto furniture. I guess it was quite interesting really, leaving their DNA mark in a place they inevitably have to leave, but it was still revolting in the thought.

“Have you finished, Frank?” Miss Carlie asked, looking over my work, her eyes skimming the page delicately.
“Do you think it's enough?” I asked, biting my nails.
“Yes,” She replied “it's simple, but well thought out, I like it. You could go and get some supplies from the cupboard and then start painting, I think I'll let you all do whatever you want, since we don’t have any assignments as a class.” I smiled at her, standing up.
“Thanks, Miss.” She nodded and I headed off. I glanced at Gerard as I walked past, catching his eye. Unknown to me at the time, he stood up, right after I turned away.

From behind me, I felt a pair of hands around my eyes, blocking my view. I jumped a little, making a slight squeaking voice.
“Guess who, motherfucker?”
Gerard.
“Oh, let me think...an asshole?” I joked with him, he released his hand from my face and moved them down onto my shoulders, spinning me round to face him.
“Hi.” He said innocently.
“You're so normal.” I laughed at him. “What are you doing here?”
By the looks of it, he just appeared in the art cupboard, like some kind of punk-rock teleportational fairy.
“I followed you.”
“I can see that. Why?”
“To see what you were doing, and to talk to you.” He said, smiling a bit too falsely for my liking.
“Oh.” This was weird, I didn't like this. “About what?”
He took a rather sharp breath inwards. “Your painting.”
I blushed slightly, pretending I didn't. Why did he have to bring that up?
“What about my painting?” Faux innocence would get me through all sorts of awkward situations, or so I thought.
“I want to understand it. Tell me, why use the word interdit....forbidden.. Why forbidden?”
“Gerard, I don't see why I have to explain myself to you.” Ouch, that must've hurt.
“Because, I'm your friend. Your annoying, curious friend.”
I grinned at him, that was true, but even so, I didn't even know the answer to half the things in my brain, why should I tell him the uncertain ramblings of my half-formed thoughts?
“Why not forbidden?” I tensed up.
“What's forbidden?” He asked, speaking more quietly this time. I felt the room getting smaller, or him getting closer.
“Many things are forbidden.” I stated, trying to hide my face with my eyes, moving them down to my feet, in a last ditch attempt to hide my uncomfortable reaction.
“What are specifically to you, though. Why did you use it?”
I was seriously done with all of this, I just wanted to clear him away, like a dust cloud and a wave of my arms.

“You ask too many questions, Gerard.”
“And you, Frank, don't give me enough answers, so I guess I better figure them out for myself.”
He leaned closer to me, our eyes parallel, his, awkwardly intense.
I sat there in silence, an electric, zinging, alive silence.
I watched his delicate mouth part slightly as he tilted his head to an angle and began to press his lips against mine. I gasped a little with the surprise of it all, closing my eyes.

What the fuck am I doing!?

I pulled away suddenly, my eyes wide with fear and pure shock.
Gerard began to stutter. “I-I-I'm so sorry Frank..I don't know what came over me..I should go...-” He turned his head away, trying to make a sharp, painful exit.
I lifted my shaking hand to his jaw and pulled his face back towards me.
“Interdit.” I whispered, rejoining his trembling lips to mine, a giggle escaped them at the familiar word. I finally got used to the repetitive motion of what may be referred to as kissing. It was mechanical almost, but still so free. He reached out and stroked a piece of my hair back away from my face, his eyes shining and relaxing into the moment.
This felt so wrong, yet so right. I smiled into him, my fears melting in his eyes.

Suddenly, I heard a loud shriek from behind me.
I flung my head back, glancing right up into my significant other's eyes.
“Frank!? I can't believe you'd do this to me!” The scream turned into as heavy sob and then an angry fluster, Holly ran out slamming the door, unsettling a shelf full of paints above us.
We sat there dripping in the colours of pigment, resin, solvent and additives. Slowly, piercingly, regaining reality.

Notes