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vizzy740 · 9 months

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Late Night TodoMomo

Momo didn’t usually go out to the commons rooms at night. After curfew, everyone was supposed to go to bed, and loitering around in the common rooms was an easy way to get in trouble.

That’s why Momo didn’t usually participate in such behavior, but once in a while, she wouldn’t have a good night’s rest, like when she was feeling bad about how she’d done on some hero training exercise or some other event, or like this night, where there was an exam in the following morning.

She’d found that the best way to calm herself down was walking down to the kitchen in the commons, brewing herself a cup of tea, and eating a small pastry left by Sato during his weekly baking sessions. She usually reviewed the chemical compounds for different types of wood and paints during this time. She’d memorized them all when she’d first learned to read and write, in her quest to make her first real object with her quirk, a matryoshka doll.

Thankfully, the rest of the class hadn’t raided the fridge yet, and Sato’s pastries, –baked just last night, most likely as Sato’s own anti-stress ritual– were untouched.

She was savoring a small pastry. She thinks Sato called it a mini boston cream pie, and it did fit the description, but she couldn’t know for sure until she asked him tomorrow.

It was delicious, like all of Sato’s creations, not too rich and with just the right amount of sweetness and moisture.

She was reading a chemical compound book (though really she already knew what was inside) and waiting for her tea kettle to whistle when she heard the elevator doors open.

Then out stepped Todoroki.

It was strange seeing him late at night. Even though they lived together in the dorms. She'd never seen him look so disheveled, though she supposed she wasn’t very close to him.

She’d never seen him in his nightclothes, but they weren’t anything interesting, just a plain loose pair of pants and a white button up shirt.

They were ruffled and wrinkled and clearly hadn’t been ironed in some time, though Momo supposed that such a thing didn’t matter, and Todoroki probably didn’t care if the pants of his sleeping wear looked crisp and straight or not.

His hair was also mussed, and the red and the white mixed together at his part, with flyaways all around.

He stumbled over to the kitchen counter to stand next to Momo, though he seemed ready to topple over at any second. He blinked, and seemed to gain a bit of clarity from his groggy state, “What’s that smell?” He asked.

“S-Sato’s desserts, he made them yesterday, mini boston cream pies I believe he said? I can get one if you would like,” Momo told him, feeling her face flush slightly as she rambled, “And I-I’m boiling some water for tea, would you like some? It has a mild sedative, since it’s for helping people to fall asleep, but I have other options I can take out too–”

“Yes, I would like that.” He interrupted.

“The cream pie or the tea?” Momo asked, smiling slightly.

“Both.” Todoroki stated bluntly. “And I want the sedative type of tea.”

“Did I disturb you?” Momo asked as she took out a cup, and another bag of the same tea.

“No. I didn’t even know you were down here.” Todoroki answered.

The kettle whistled, and Momo hurried to take it off the stove and turn the dial off. She poured the water into the cups, and handed one to Todoroki.

She was surprised for a second as he put his hand fully around the cup, before remembering his quirk. Then she hurried off to grab a second miniature pie from the fridge and handed it to Todoroki as well.

After she put it in his unoccupied hang, he watched it with his usual monotone stare before taking a bite of it, then the ends of his mouth raised slightly. Only those who really knew Todoroki well could tell it was actually a smile and not just some odd, different version of his usual emotionless expression.

She smiled, “I’m happy you like it.”

He turned to meet her eyes, and with his cheek similar to that of a chipmunk, his cheeks slightly puffed out, Momo couldn’t help but give out a little giggle.

Todoroki was cute like that, when he did those little, easy things in life, when the untouchable feeling he gave off melted away, showing the boy underneath.

A boy that Momo liked.

She smiled at him as she let the thought swirl in her mind. By the time she returned back to reality, taking in the changes to her surroundings, she felt herself flush again.

Todoroki was less than a foot away from her, still staring into her eyes.

“T-Todoroki.” she stammered, too dazed to say anything but his name.

She glanced around, and saw her cup upon the counter beside her. She picked it up and glanced into it, upon seeing that the water was sufficiently colored by the tea bag, she decided that it had steeped for long enough, and removed it from the water, dropping it into the nearby kitchen garbage can without moving from their close position.

“I think the tea’s steeped long enough. Do you want me to put yours in the tea bag?”

Todoroki shook his head.

“The taste might get worse if you don’t.”

“I don’t care.” He replied, “I want the sedative to be at its most potent.”

“Okay…?” Momo answered hesitantly. She took a sip of her tea. It was nice, as it usually was.

Todoroki continued to look at her. Momo wasn’t really used to this. She’d seen Todoroki look at her every once in a while, he stared at everyone really, if he took an interest in something, his eyes would just stay on it, either not knowing or not caring about being strange.

Usually it was fine, and it didn’t make Momo uncomfortable most of the time, it was more of a question of why.

Because the why changed everything.

Her face was hot. Todoroki had walked back up to her, and they were close again.

Then Todoroki touched her face, and–

It was cold.

She blinked, a bit surprised at how cold it felt.

“Is that good?”

“I– uh, yeah.” She answered, because it was nice, the cool feeling, it was a bit surprising, but overall it was soothing, it felt good on her left cheek. “I… thought you were going to do something else.”

“What else would I do?” Todoroki asked, his voice even as usual, even as he leaned close to her, their noses barely an inch away from each other. He kept his hand on his face.

“Kiss me.”

“Do you want me to?” Todoroki asked. For Todoroki, the monotone of his voice sounded completely genuine.

“D-do you want to?” Momo asked, her voice trembling.

“I think so.”

“Then… do it.” Momo breathed out.

And he did.

(Catcity)

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spencerdaze · 9 months

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Overanalyzing Guillermo del Toro's Crimson Peak

Continuing with my very long posts overanalyzing my favourite movies, yesterday I saw del Toro's 2015 Crimson Peak for like the 50th time. Being one of my favourite movies i always talk about how i could make an essay just based on the link between the power of the characters and their hair, and i though 'Welp, Tumblr exists, might as well!' so here it is. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

For those of you who don't know, Crimson Peak is the name of a movie from 2015 directed and written (i think) by Guillermo del Toro. It's NOT a horror movie, as many people think, but a gothic romance type of movie, with a lot of ambiance and spirits that are more metaphorical than scary. The movie was not very well received because people thought it would be a horror movie due to the trailers focusing too much on the horror aspect of the ghosts, but i find it to be one of the best movies made in the gothic genre. As a gothic writer myself, it really is one of the best examples of the genre there is!

Now, the movie has a lot of gorgeous aesthetic choices that carry a heavy symbolism. Set in the 1890s to the 1900s, the victorian aesthetic of the turn of the century helps the movie have more modern aditions like typewriters and gramophones, which almost helps the story feel more modern since most gothic stories take place in the middle of the nineteenth century, and they feel further and more distant to readers. Many of the choices in clothing also help with one of the biggest symbolisms in it: the moth vs the butterfly. Edith, our protagonist, wears appropriate clothing for the period with big puffy sleeves and golden colours that help us see her as a beautiful butterfly, while Lucille wears clothes from a decade earlier, which help with showing the brothers are struggling with money, but also stucks her in a 1970s dress that almost looks like a pupa, where a dangerous black moth is going to come out of. Lucille is placed as the black moth, dangerous for the butterfly and opressive to herself and others. The costuming in the movie is great, but i want to talk about the colors the movie uses and how they relate to power.

In Edith's home, the main colours used are golds and browns, which help us see she feels powerful and good in her hometown, as shown also by her golden hair. Lucille and Thomas inmediatly look out of place, dressed mostly in black and cool greys, with the exception being Lucille's red dress she wears when she's first introduced, showing us she's dangerous, a walking red flag. Her hair, of course, is a deep raven black. Lucille and Edith both have a power struggle, in this case because of the love the each feel for Thomas, and the only thing that doesn't change in them is their hair colour, since in the climax and fighting scene both of them wear their hair loose while dressed in white, showing their power struggle. Something happens in Allerdale Hall as well: Edith's clothes become darker and less saturated, and her hair becomes loose. Her hair, her power, is becoming less and less as Lucille, still dressed in black for most of this part of the film, has gained power being in her isolated mansion.

While in Edith's town, at the park, Lucille cuts of a butterfly's chrysallis from a tree branch before the butterfly comes out, as she sits on a floor covered in dead butterflies in golden colours. And this is one of my favourite parallels of the movie. In the last moments of the film, before her fight with Edith, while Edith signs her lawyer's documents focibly, Lucille cuts of a lock of her hair. In the victorian era, cutting your hair wasn't very common amongst the higher classes, only being done to people who had passed away as a means of remembering by creating jewels out of their hair. The act of cutting of one of Edith's golden locks is basically Lucille telling her 'I won, you have no power, this is your end, your death', similar to how she cuts of the butterfly from the tree, yet again showing Lucille as a black moth that eats the golden butterfly. But Edith still has her power, with her golden hair long and cascading down her shoulders, and she uses said power to escape and, in the end, manages to kill the black month, turning Lucille into a black vengeful spirit.

This movie is one of the best i've seen in a while and you can see how obssessed i am with it lol. Just like the hair, the costuming and settings of the film as well as things like lighting and use of colour are charged with heavy symbolisms and meanings that you can look into if you're obssessed with it like i am. I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it and you like ghostly romances in creepy haunted mansions.

#film #cinema #guillermo del toro #movies #film review #movie review #review #crimson peak #mia wasikowska #tom hiddleston #gothic #gothic aesthetic #romance #romantic suspense #ghost

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hannaedits · 7 days

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Book Review: Cohesion (Chain Reaction #3) by Aurora Crane

Read my reviews of the previous books in the Chain Reaction series: Catalyst (#1) | Reactant (#2) This book fulfilled all my expectations, and then some, for the long-awaited finale of this trilogy. The story does not work as a stand-alone; both the relationship arc(s) and external plot build on what has come before. The author has referred to this novel as “The Big Book of Feelings,” which is…

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#Aurora Crane #book review #books #Chain Reaction #Cohesion #contemporary romance #fiction #gay romance #menage romance #novel #polyamory #queer romance #reading #romance #romantic suspense

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sbbarnes · 4 months

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Start the presses! Heart First is now out as a paperback! Check it out here!

Also orderable with the ISBN ‎ 978-1648907173 from your retailer of choice!

#lgbtq books #lgbtq romance #heart first #cozy mystery #hudson valley #mm romance #romantic suspense #seasonal romance #seasonal mystery

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elumish · 5 months

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Anyone have any (preferably not fantasy) romantic suspense books that came out in the last year or two that you recommend? Queer or straight.

#book recs #romantic suspense #i'm thinking in the suzanne brockmann j.d. robb jayne ann krentz vibe

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the960writers · 6 months

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Crafting Romantic Suspense

By Nora Roberts

Construction is one of the key words in creating romantic suspense. In a romance novel, the love story is built step by step on the emotions, needs, doubts and personalities of the protagonists. In a suspense, the mystery, intrigue, secret or tension is built state by state with facts, innuendo, atmosphere and action. Romance suspense is a blending of the two. There must be a relationship — that ongoing, developing relationship we expect between the covers of a romance novel. There must be an unknown — a suspicion, a mystery, a danger that we expect between the covers of a suspense novel. Therefore, the outside tension is just as vital as the emotional and sexual tension and its construction must be just as meticulous.

Read more here:

https://writingcorner.com/crafting-romantic-suspense/

#writing romance #romantic suspense #constructing romance #Nora Roberts #Nora omg! Roberts!

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blam-marie · 14 hours

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SKIN DEEP chapter 1

Like this? This one is actually a published book that you can buy! Or request at your library :) Links here!

Please check out my Patreon too

Louison left the river for the fourth time of her life on a hot August day. She pulled herself from the waves to the sandy shore alone, with no one to witness the beginning of her journey. Her siblings had broken the ancient traditions by refusing to accompany her to land. They were terrified of what would wait for her there. She didn’t share their worry. Louison knew the world of men well, and she would manage on her own. But then, it wasn’t as if she had much choice.

Far away, beyond the rocks that bordered the little sandy beach, she could see the menacing bell tower of St. Adalbert Sur Mer piercing the sky. The small church’s metal roof gleamed like a lighthouse under the heavy sun, a pinprick of light presiding over a quiet village with a dark secret.

That secret was the reason that Louison was here. Three times over the summer, the naked, lifeless body of one of her siblings had been found in the river. Naked, and cradled in cement. It was a crime that no one could discover, aside from those who lived in the waves. For the St. Lawrence’s clans, this meant war. To steal a pelt was one thing; but to throw the skinned bodies of Selkies back in the water to be found by their families? That was just unimaginably cruel.

Three times already, Louison had been sent to land to investigate the disappearance of a sibling. She was her clan’s emissary, like her mother and grandmother before her. This time, however, the problem at hand was much worse than a missing selkie, trapped by a human out of cruelty disguised as love. There was no one to save and no sibling to reunite with their family. Louison, for the first time in her life, had to solve a murder.

She was afraid, of course. But she couldn’t let fear take hold of her. The clan’s matriarch herself had assigned her this mission, and Louison was determined to see it through. She would find out who was responsible for this and drag them into the waves. Sedna could decide their fate.

Taking advantage of the high tide, she slid forward onto the smooth pebbles of the beach. The day was warm, but there was no one in sight. Humans, following strange customs, usually disappeared from the shores towards the end of summer, when their offspring returned to the learning places that they called schools.

Once she’d left the water, the transformation took her. Her body stretched, her almost three hundred pounds of bone and flesh splitting into perfectly plump arms and legs. It was never pleasant, but she endured the shift stoically.

From as far back as their history could recall, the transformation had always been a group ritual. That day, under the uncaring glare of the sun, Louison had only herself. She used her sharp claws to tear at her chest, slashing awkwardly at the fur on her ribs until she could grab a handful and rip it off. The pale, damp skin of her new breasts rose towards the sky as she heaved under the morning light. With salt on her lips and the sun in her eyes, she struggled out of her pelt with as much grace as a salmon stuck in a fishing net. For Louison, every second spent in the open was a second too long. She knew that on this beach, she was a target. Someone could spot her at any moment. Had she had the choice, she would have preferred to land at Selkie’s Cove, a small shallow bay surrounded by rocks a few kilometres from St. Adalbert Sur Mer. She could have hidden in any of the caves dotting the cliffs there, and would have had all the time in the world to shift into human form.

Unfortunately, it was the very place where her sisters had last been seen alive. Selkie’s Cove was definitely somewhere where her investigation would take her, but not before she could put on some clothes and establish her cover in town.

Louison rolled onto her knees and looked around her warily. There was no one in sight. She got her feet under her, her legs trembling with the effort needed to stand after months spent in the river. Louison, unlike other selkies, practised walking often. She knew what movements to make and how to shift her weight from one foot to the other, even when she was rusty.

It was her mother that had insisted on this training. She used to warn her about growing slow, about spending too long on the beach after leaving the water. It was dangerous. Keeping that danger in mind, Louison picked up her fur pelt and folded it carefully under her arm.

The wind coming from the river made her shiver despite the warmth of the sun on her naked skin. To the east, a line of pebbles separated the beach from the bike path. She started painstakingly walking towards it. Her steps gradually grew more sure on the wet sand and large rocks until she had a decent stride going. At the bend of the path, where the sand gave way to yellowing grass, stood a small wooden structure. It was nothing more than the municipal employee’s shed, and yet Louison knew that she would find what she was looking for inside of it. Old Gustave had worked all his life to keep the beach clean and welcoming. Although it had never been part of his official functions, he had also gotten into the habit of keeping clothes and other useful things inside his shed. Especially after his wedding to the beautiful and tragic Armande.

Louison had liked Armande. Her mother had investigated her disappearance from the clan, once. It was one of the only times when it had had a happy ending for everyone involved. Of course, Armande hadn’t lived long on land. That just wasn’t where their specie thrived. But she had been happy here, and that is what mattered. Gustave had never taken her pelt — nor touched it, as far as she knew.

Few humans respected the Great Taboo. For that, the clan gave him their tentative trust.

The shed wasn’t locked. Louison pushed the door with effort, the old hinges covered by layers of rust and salt. The place was full with tools, machines, and who knew what else, all carefully kept on high metal shelves. In a corner, behind an abandoned lawn mower, was a plastic bin on which someone had painted “lost & found”. Louison had a moment of fondness for Gustave. There were piles of clothes inside, all of them carefully folded and apparently sorted by sizes. A couple of shoes and boots were also lined up under a work bench nearby. Behind the clothes bin was an old metal locker. Upon inspection, a padlock and its key had been left inside.

Louison placed her pelt on the highest shelf with reverence. She hastened to shut the door before she could change her mind. The sharp snap of the padlock locking was at once reassuring and terrifying. She gnashed her teeth and forced herself to walk away from the locker, back towards the bin. She had to find something to wear that would support the cover that she and her siblings had come up with.

August was the perfect month to move into St. Adalbert Sur Mer. Every fall, dozens of students that attended CEGEP in the neighbouring town came here to find cheap apartments. They filled the village with new faces. There wouldn’t be a better moment to slip in unnoticed. Louison, with her large honest eyes and round face, figured that she could pose as a student of marine biology, which would give her the perfect cover to carry out her investigation.

She pulled out a few plaid shirts and some pants from the bin, then chose a sturdy-looking pair of boots. All of the clothes were visibly second-hand, but that would only serve to help sell her “poor student” image. She pushed aside everything that was too brightly coloured or had a different cut than she recognized. Fashion had doubtlessly changed a lot since the last time that she’d come on land, and she hoped that she wasn’t making a mistake with her choices.

She didn’t want to have to come back to the shed to pick something else. Too many selkies on land made the mistake of visiting the place where they had stashed their pelts too often. It wasn’t subtle, and increased the chances that someone would follow them there. Better not to take that risk.

Lastly, Louison went to the work bench and started to check the drawers. She hoped that Gustave’s generosity would have extended to leaving her some money, just enough so that she could find a place to sleep while on land. With a serial killer on the loose, the last thing she wanted was to have to return to the river every night and risk being noticed.

Fortunately, the park ranger was a generous man. A few bills had been slipped under a flower pot, as well as the flyer for the local youth hostel. She bit her lip, trying to think of the best way to show her gratefulness to the old man. Louison picked a pair of scissors from the tools on a shelf nearby and cut a lock of her dark hair, which she tucked under the flower pot where the money had been. He would know what it meant; the clan now owned him a debt.

And the clan took its debts very seriously.

#skin deep #writer #writing #writing is hard #selkie #my writing #queer romance #murder mystery #supernatural mystery #romantic suspense

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lgbtqreads · 9 months

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Exclusive Cover Reveal: Double Exposure by Rien Gray

Today on the site, we’re revealing the cover of Rien Gray’s F/NBi romantic suspense, Double Exposure, which releases September 4th! Here’s the story: Love always shows your true face. Jillian Rhodes lies to everyone she meets. As one of the world’s best art thieves, a life of infiltration and con artistry has left her flying solo, which is exactly the way she likes it. When Jillian is hired to…

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#bisexual #Double Exposure #f/nb #Nonbinary #Rien Gray #Romantic Suspense

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mxnkeydo · 8 months

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so scarlet (it was maroon) ✧ sokeefe

✧ ship: Sophie x Keefe

✧ what to expect: it all went down went a book went soaring across the classroom but sophie never expects it to end the way it does. acrylic smeared on cheeks, pigment-stained clothes, and a whole keefe sencen later, maybe she never despised him as much as she thought she did.

✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor, sarcasm - enemies to lovers trope, human au, and a love triangle to torment you guys 😈

✧ word count: 1.77k

✧ warnings: fluffy moments. be prepared to scream.

✧ link to masterlist

✧ link to chapter five

✧ A/N: I had so much fun writing this, I really hope ya'll like it!

***

CHAPTER SIX

“Hey.”

Fitz slid into the seat next to her with his tray of lunch, happily snacking on a waffle. Sophie couldn’t help it; she grinned, moving over to make room for him.

“Hey.” From afar, she felt herself getting hypnotized by his teal eyes. Sometimes it was like Fitz could see into her soul and look at her deepest desires.

“So, I was wondering.” Fitz fiddled with his fork. “Do you wanna go to the movies with me tonight?”

“Oh!” Sophie blushed, looking down. “Fitz, I’d love to, but–”

“She has a tutoring session with me.”

Keefe sat down beside Sophie, sharing a secretive smile. Yesterday’s events rewinded themselves in her head, and she chuckled aloud, nudging him with her elbow.

“Okay, is there something I’m missing here?” Fitz asked. In unison, Sophie and Keefe burst in laughter regardless of the weird looks they were getting.

“Imagine Kelly actually–”

“I still can’t–”

Fitz calmly waited for the laughter to pass, gently taking Sophie’s hand afterwards. “What happened?”

“We pranked someone yesterday,” Sophie explained. “It was hilarious, you should’ve been there. Oh! I forgot.” She gestured to Keefe. “Fitz, this is Keefe, he’s helping me with the art elective I’m taking. Keefe, this is Fitz, my boyfriend.”

Keefe’s smile faded. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

“You have?”

“Mhm.”

For some reason, both the boys avoided looking at one another. Fitz scooched closer to Sophie, and she leaned into his warmth.

“No PDA, guys!” Biana exclaimed (for the thousandth time) as she sat in the seat across from Sophie. Dex, Tam, and Linh made themselves comfortable in the remaining spots.“I don’t need to see my best friend and brother snogging in public.”

“Biana, who even says snogging anymore?”

“Me!”

“I agree with Biana, coming to school is torturous enough as it is.”

Keefe broke into a smile. “Hey! Bangs Boy!” Biana jerked her head up, eyes widening. Sophie suppressed a smile, remembering all the times Biana would talk about Keefe’s “gorgeous curls” and his “wonderful blue eyes’. Her best friend’s dreams were basically coming true.

But Tam looked at Keefe like he was so done with him already. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, though you could barely see them because of his bangs. “You. What are you doing here?”

“Just because you hate making new friends doesn’t mean I have to.” Keefe whispered in Sophie’s ear, “That’s my science partner. He’s a lil grumpy, dontcha think?”

“And that’s Keefe Sencen,” Sophie heard Biana whisper (more like yell) into Dex’s ear. He, in return, put on a fake smile and replied, “Yup. That’s him.” Poor guy, she thought. His efforts were never enough for Biana’s attention.

“One lunch. One, peaceful, quiet lunch is all I ask for,” Linh muttered under her breath.

“Tell me about it,” Dex said in agreement, shooting wistful side glances at Biana while she devoured a chocolate chip cookie. Sophie looked around at her friends, then at Keefe.

“Are you okay? I know it’s a lot.”

Keefe shot her a smile, but instead of lightening his face up it made him seem more weary.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

***

Keefe was walking with Sophie to art when Fitz tapped him on the shoulder. “We need to talk,” he said.

“I’ll catch up with you in a minute, Foster,” Keefe called, then turned to face his ex-best friend. “What do you want, Fitz?”

“I want you to stop getting comfy with my girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.” Fitz crossed his arms, his chin lifted in defiance. “You think I can’t notice when you get all comfortable with her? There need to be boundaries; she has a boyfriend.”

“Okay, first of all, this is fucked up. You can’t tell her who she can or can’t be friends with.” Keefe emphasized the word so loudly, Bianca turned to look at them strangely before heading down the hallway with Linh.

“All I’m saying is she’s my girlfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard you the first time.”

“Good.” Fitz opened his mouth like he was going to say something else - an apology, Keefe hoped, for the fallout they’d had over Alden, but he just closed it again and jogged the other way, his jacket fading to a black blur.

As much as Keefe grew to dislike him, Fitz was right. Sophie was happy with her relationship as it already was; he couldn’t just waltz in and demand Sophie’s heart when it already belonged to her boyfriend. No matter how much he hated it, he had to let them both be.

Ironic, isn’t it? His ex best friend and his crush. What a pair.

But for the moment, he shook his head and ran ahead to the head of blonde hair in the distance.

***

And so their sessions continued. Sophie slowly learned to draw, and Keefe kept a respectful distance from her as he taught her the basics of art. They eventually passed the strange-each-other stage, and soon they were actually really great friends, to Sophie’s surprise. She found herself knowing exactly when her tutor was nervous, when he was forcing a smile, and when his mind was completely elsewhere.

Which was why, when Keefe was in the middle of telling her all about perspective and shading, she interrupted him with her hand on his shoulder.

“What’s bothering you?” Sophie asked as she brushed the stray hair out of her eyes. She gazed at Keefe, who was fidgeting with his apron, noticing the cerulean paint streaks on his cheeks.

“Nothing. I’m tired, I guess.” Lips turning up gently, he picked up a paintbrush with his messy hands, covering it in pigment. Sophie didn’t budge. The slight crease between his eyebrows told her everything she needed to know. That, and subtle frown that would appear on his lips as he got lost in the purples and blues of his painting: a breathtaking sunset behind the tall grass of a prairie.

“No, you’re not. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s ‘going on’, Foster,” he snapped. “I’m just exhausted. End of story.”

Sophie reared back, slapped by his words. She turned back to her own canvas, which wasn’t nearly as good as his, but a good effort nonetheless. They worked in silence for the next few minutes. Keefe seemed to finally notice she was hurt because he said, softer this time: “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out like that.”

“I know, it’s just—“ She sighed. “I wish you would tell me. Is it school? Is it your family? I’ve never seen you this worried.”

“It isn’t either of those things.”

“Then what?”

Keefe finally tore his eyes off the canvas before him, gazing at her with an intensity that bore holes through her skull. Instead of their usual hard shine, his irises were soft, reminding Sophie of how ice melts under heat. The way he looked at her alone had her cheeks turning pink. But no matter what, she didn’t break eye contact. Keefe had gone through a lot, as she’d come to know over the past month. She needed to know he was alright, and not having an internal mental breakdown.

“It’s about you.”

“Me? Did I do something?”

Sophie waited impatiently, expecting an answer, but instead Keefe stepped closer and pressed his pigmented finger against her nose. She felt the cold acrylic seep into her skin as she said,

“You didn’t.”

“You sure about that? ‘Cause your nose is looking like an overripe blueberry right now.”

A silent staring contest began—and Sophie had to grudgingly admit she knew Keefe was going to win. So she dug three fingers into a container of green paint and smeared it all over Keefe’s face in squiggly lines.

“Oh, you’re so on!” Keefe slowly crept closer until Sophie could detect a hint of—was that cologne? He never wore cologne. It smelled somewhat spicy, but...also like vanilla? Whatever it was, it caught her completely off guard. Which gave Keefe just enough time to reach out and—

“Keefe!” Sophie yelped as he began to tickle her. She clawed at her neck but in turn he held her arms above her head, smirking villainously as his hands traveled to her stomach. She could do nothing but cackle and shriek as she wiggled under his touch.

For the first time, Sophie glanced down, only to see that her magenta crew neck was soon stained with blue fingerprints. “Keefe, this is my favorite sweatshirt!” She whined. Lunging for the nearest two bottles of acrylic, she tackled him to the ground and dumped the yellow and pink paint all over him, from his perfect hair to the varsity jacket he wore. Keefe sputtered and coughed as Sophie laughed in glee above him, pinning him down with her knee against his chest.

Keefe couldn’t help but join her. They said to make a girl fall in love, you had to make her laugh. But every time she laughed, he was the one who fell in love, deeper and deeper each time.

You’re going to be the death of me, Sophie Foster.

She was so close he could see her glistening lips, her perfectly-curled lashes, the flecks of gold in her irises so they shimmered in the fading daylight. There was only so much he could do to resist doing something that would jeopardize their friendship, so he tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, watching in satisfaction as her cheeks, once again, bloomed with a scarlet hue.

“Sophie,” he breathed in all seriousness. “We’re friends, right?”

“Of course,” she replied without hesitation. Those two words were so sincere that Keefe’s heartbeat automatically slowed down.

A silence came over them like a cloud, but it wasn’t awkward. In fact, Keefe sort of enjoyed it. He watched the way Sophie’s eyes flickered back and forth between his own; how her lips parted; the way she blinked innocently while she stared at him.

But as much as he would’ve liked to, they couldn't stay there forever. With a sharp inhale from Keefe, Sophie scrambled to her feet, offering him a hand. He took it, and looked into the mirror, gasping.

“My hair!” He exclaimed, trying to wipe the pink out of his hair, but he only spread it more. Sophie snorted, swatting his hand out of the way.

“C’mon, you can wash your precious hair in the bathroom. I’m not letting you get in my car with all that paint on you.”

“Whose fault in the first place?”

“Yours, because you started it.” Sophie gestured to the bathroom, smiling uncontrollably. It lit her face like a lightbulb. “What are you waiting for? Go clean up, Sencen.”

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