Merry Christmas and Happy holidays, my little shooting stars ✨

'Paint a picture

Choose your colors extra wise

Especially what you put on my mind

Imagine what it be like to touch the sky'

'The start of many opportunities.

Now that we have learned all the lessons and received all the tools, we are ready to go out into the world–'

A creaking of branch drew my gaze to the window, the sound echoing in all my insides like a call from the world. Yet when I was met with the floral patterns of my curtains, I went back to the paper in front of me.

It was surely the wind, or my imaginative mind craving an escape after hours of being stuck between those four walls.

"Where was I?"

Right, going out into the world.

I clicked my ballpoint pen, ready to write more words that appeared more like wishes than plans when a tap on my window made me jump, and I just had time to catch my breath and frown at the crossing-out right over the word 'rules' that new knocks echoed, this time more intent and impatient.

My legs reacted instantly and automatically, pulling me up and into movement, while my eyes were more hesitant, trailing to the pile of papers I was supposed to finish for tomorrow before narrowing to the window as if it could help me pierce through the pink fabric. As for my heart, it seemed torn between the two, taking up a patchy rhythm.

A robber wouldn't knock, of course, and there was only one person who had ever climbed here.

Yet Spencer wasn't here. We were the last Sunday of the month, which meant he was at the Colt granparents' house, unless he'd abandoned this tradition too?

I took a breath, preparing my hardest expression to scare off whoever was here, hopefully, a robber.

But it fell down with a gasp when I risked peering behind the curtains. "Blade?!"

I put my hand over my mouth, not only to prevent my jaw from crashing on the floor but also to not let the whole neighborhood know about his presence, his dangerous and sharp presence.

He was really here. When he gestured for me to open the window and his unique intoxicating perfume reached my nose and quickly my lungs, there was no doubt, although it looked surreal to see him here, perched between a branch and the lattice.

"What are you doing here?"

Had I wished it that hard?

"Last night, you said you were stuck at home, so I thought I would visit."

"You're crazy! My parents are just downstairs. What if they see you?!" I whisper-yelled, although I wasn't sure if my hands lifted in the air to slap him or to jump at his neck.

"I know, that's why I climbed here," he replied flatly, as if it had been the most obvious and casual thing in the world, and he as easily slid in through the window I kept open for him.

Well, something told me he would have found a way to get in anyway.

"By the way, really practical the lattice there." He pointed his thumb to the window behind, that devious sparkle lighting up in his eyes and looking for mine, which surely peeked through my best innocent expression.

"Yeah, it's a luck that it's the latest French trend." And I'd had to go through a lot of magazines to convince my mom of it.

But that, I didn't need to add as his laugh echoed around.

"Shh!" My hands, still lifted in the air, ended over his Cheshire cat's smile as I frantically glanced around the room. "Did you come here to get me in trouble?"

The answer was obvious when he cocked an eyebrow, and maybe he even hinted what kind of trouble as he grabbed my hand, leaving a languid kiss on my palm. Yet I was glad he was here, and my other hand wrapped around his neck to make sure he stayed, and also to hold on to something as I was already melting.

"I brought you back your bike too." With his lips over my pulse, it took me two skipped beats to even remember I had a bike, and he was in the tender crook of my elbow when something else clicked.

"Oh, and Meteorite?!" My dazed eyes searched around him for a little ball of fur.

I hadn't forgotten about the baby raccoon, but with everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, I might have been a little overwhelmed, and anyway, I knew it was in good caring hands.

"About that..."

The melting mess I was froze all at once, and not only because Blade pulled away, his lips now forming a wince.

Blade Sayer didn't do winces. He did smirks, Cheshire cat's grins, and all those sinful things. But that tensed grimace held an edge sharper that not only cracked my small voice.

"What?"

"I couldn't bring him here 'cause Pete has adopted him."

"He's fine?!" I breathed out, the relief slowly washing over me at the same pace that the corners of his lips inched up. "Wait, 'him'?"

"Yes, him. We found out this morning while doing his bandage, and he's more than fine. He's eaten all our crackers. Pete already sent me to buy more."

My heart didn't even get to restart properly that it was already melting, and even if the image of those two impressive tattooed men taking care of this little innocent life was something I would have never imagined when first meeting them, now, I could picture it as clearly as that soft shine in Blade's eyes.

"You tended his wound?" My voice was still as high, maybe even squeaking, as when I'd had Meteorite in front of me.

Well, the way he lifted one shoulder while keeping his hands in the pockets of his jackets held something as precious.

"Yeah, we used some antiseptic and soap like we do for our wounds, that's okay? Pete got all doting on the pet and couldn't wait." He rolled his eyes, and that gesture only made me want to hug him more.

I went for his hand instead. 

"That's okay. All that matters is that he's fine and safe, and if your uncle wants to keep him, he can. Meteorite will surely be better with you boys, and I know you'll take good care of him." I didn't realize the words escaping my smile and their impact, and when I did, it was too late. They had already hit his eyes, sinking in the blue shades, yet they didn't close off any wall. He was just back to stare at me and count the freckles on my warm cheeks.

"But I have a condition." I tried to fight my grin down, which wasn't easy under his penetrating gaze and lifted eyebrows.

"Yeah?"

"I want to be able to go see him whenever I want."

"Ooh, I don't know... it's a huge favor..." That mischievous smile was back, accentuated by a dimple, and after having glimpsed his wince and the frightening possibilities coming with it, I appreciated the sly indent of his grin, and even the bad intention growing with it.

"You know how it works around here. It needs something in return, Shooting star..." He took a step closer, exactly like he'd done on our first encounter, and this time it was clear he wouldn't settle for an innocent question as his price was set intently on my lips, which I was nibbling lightly.

"Like what?"

"It depends. Is it only Meteorite you wanna see?"

I pulled my lips to the side, even if my answer was already decided. "Yes."

It wasn't Meteorite my body was slowly tipping towards, and we both knew it as he raised an eyebrow, making the depth of his gaze more dizzying and piercing.

So his next words might have sounded like a question, yet when his exhale tickled my lips with the low rolling word, it was clearly a statement. "Really?"

What were we discussing again? He wasn't even touching me that he'd already turned me into a fusing mess, and this time, it wasn't by my core that he'd melted me, but a more dangerous place.

However, with his fierce lips so close, I never thought of the dangers, and I lifted on my tiptoes, needing more sparks to burn down any frightening image that had appeared at the possibility of losing Meteorite.

"Dorothy!"

One hair, I was just one hair away from meeting that Cheshire cat's smile full of promises – or should I say, bad intentions – when the call echoed from somewhere behind my closed door, and a new frightening image paralyzed me.

Meteorite might have been safe, but I couldn't say the same about us.

"My mom," I explained to Blade as my pale face probably looked more like the Loch-ness monster was behind the door. Well, if she found Blade in my bedroom, it would resemble it, and my heart was already hammering at the same pace as the clicks of her heels echoing louder.

"Go hide!" I whispered, my wide eyes taking in the criminal all dressed in black as if it was the first time.

It was in moments like those that I realized how tall and sharp he looked, the pastel surroundings only highlighting his presence, and the rush of panic in my veins making his unaffected gait appear slower.

He wasn't scared of anything; I'd got it. But I was; I was terrified of being locked for the next 20 years in a room with no window.

So when the handle twisted, I pushed him in the corner, and just as the door opened, I rushed to hold it and make sure he was completely hidden behind.

"Mom!" I breathed out, widening her interrogative look.

"What are you doing?"

"I was... hot! So I breathed in some fresh air." I glanced over my shoulder at the open window.

It was the perfect excuse, and it would justify my flushed state. Though I already imagined the sly comments it would earn me after.

It was strange. Blade might have been hidden, and my room might have looked perfectly normal, yet I could almost hear his devious smile and feel his aura seeping into the walls, or was it just his perfume?

It was a miracle my mom hadn't already detected it, but it was surely because he was less permeated with tobacco today. There was just... his pack of cigarettes on the floor, next to my feet.

It had probably slid out from his pocket in the rush, and I cursed his nonchalance while choking on my breath – almost as much as when I'd tried the intoxicating smoke – and leaping with my foot on the little box to push it back to its owner with purpose and discretion.

"It's almost suffocating!"

"Don't you try softening me up, Dorothea. You're grounded, and you know why." My mom lifted her chin, and even if we were around the same height now, this look still managed to make me lower my gaze with a grim nod. "You have to understand we only want what's best for you."

I would never understand, and even less agree. But I kept my protests inside with the clench of my fists and my teeth as she sermoned me about being a 'responsible adult'.

It wouldn't have been the best moment to argue that I was when the 'delinquent' they'd forbidden me to see was right behind the door.

"I know," I concluded like a 'responsible adult' in hopes of ending the conversation and being able to go back to the reckless activities she'd interrupted.

"Good, and we'll let you think about it while your dad and I go to the flower market with uncle Dan and everyone."

Missing a whole afternoon of seeing Diane and her poison ivy fake smile? It didn't sound like a punishment.

"And don't you dare going out while we're away."

"I won't. I think I'll have to do with what I have in my room to occupy myself..." My eyes traveled from her pointed index finger to all around the room until the other side of the door, and I did my best to keep a bothered pout while I could feel the devious hint of a Cheshire grin tickling me, though maybe it was just the one I caught sight of behind the door.

"Beth!" My dad's call came just in time before my excitement could shine through my bright eyes.

"We gotta go. Be good." She kissed my forehead, the gesture sinking a pang of guilt in my stomach more than any of her words.

Though it didn't prevent me from nodding, closing the door as soon as she turned away, and letting out a sigh of relief, neither it stopped the thrill of not getting caught slowly spreading in my veins as I listened to the clicks of heels disappear down the stairs. That spark of forbidden was addicting, and it may not have been the only thing as I met those mischievous blue eyes.

"'Do with what you have in your room'?" he asked, the twinkle of bad intention peeking from the pompoms he lifted in front of him, my pompoms, which he seemed to like so much, and I snatched them away from his grasp, hanging them behind the door again, mostly to avoid the innuendos and his dimples that were never going one without the other.

"There's not a lot of things in your room." He wandered around the room, and more exactly, he drifted straight to my bed, ignoring the desk covered with now-abandoned papers and notebooks, the full-length mirror, the dressing table, and the shelves.

However, as my gaze went around the room, away from his tall figure sitting on my bed, I realized there wasn't much to catch the eye, indeed.

"Yeah, it's a little bare. I cleared out a little lately." My voice held no hint of playfulness anymore, and it was straying far from his innuendos with the quavers on the end.

I knew he hadn't meant it like that, as he, himself, had a room emptier than mine. Yet something in his words called back all the emptiness outside and inside, or maybe it was the way he was seated with his hands and knees wide, taking half of the bed and filling the room like it hadn't been since... Spencer.

For the first time, I took in the blank space on the shelves, left with only one photo and a pile of books for two pieces of furniture taller than me, the marks of pins on the plain pale pink walls, the empty spot between my pillows, which only a special stuffed toy could fill, and even the missing round chair – or cuddling chair, as we'd called it.

Of course, there was still my desk, although emptier of a calendar, two notebooks, and about ten pens, and I still had kept my jewelry box, which was lighter, my alarm clock, and a few cheerleading trophies. But if I crossed the hallway and entered Daisy's old bedroom, the scenery wouldn't be much different.

It made me think about what part of me it was showing. What was left of me without Spencer? Who was I? An empty and ordinary space between scratched walls?

"It leaves more room." Blade shrugged, and even though he surely didn't understand my problem – when his own bedroom was simple and bare – the twinkle in his eyes sparked something inside: an idea, and maybe even hope.

With both in mind, and a smile slowly stretching my lips, I walked between his open legs, letting my hands run through his hair. "With your wooden works, do you have some paint?"

***

"It looks good!"

"What the room or our bodies?" My gaze came down from the dark blue to a much lighter one, and it almost felt like a shiny gradation, though under, there were pretty much all the colors of the rainbow.

"Oh yes, the room too." Blade nodded, his eyes still lingering down my body.

At least, it was in the same deep blue shades as the ceiling, since he had painted most of the ceiling, and I'd done the drawings here and there on the walls in more colors, which explained the stains of mauve, golden, and baby blue added to the inks on his arms – oh, and also green on his dimple.

We may have had a little paint battle, and I wasn't sure who had won, seeing our appearances. But luckily, I had changed into an old tee-shirt and pedal pusher pants while he'd gone back at his house to pick up the paint cans and brushes, and I had covered most of the furniture. It was safer, since we were both uncontrollable.

Anyway, the results were still here, and it was beyond my expectations. I liked the constellations signs and all the planets of the solar system I'd traced on the walls in place of all the torn photos.

But my favorite part was the ceiling in a gradation of navy blue, purple, and all those night shades, and of course, all those little dots of white, which, in the faint lighting coming from the closed curtains, seemed to shine. It was almost last night's sky, maybe even better, as I could stare again and again at the shooting star he'd painted just above my bed.

There were now parts of me in this room, some that may have been secret even for me, and even if there were still blank spaces on the shelves to fill, the emptiness inside my chest was like the room, slowly taking colors and shine.

My mom would surely have a heart attack seeing the new decoration, yet technically, I hadn't disobeyed; I'd stayed home, and I would just omit the one who had done half of the work, maybe more.

"Thank you for all of this." My gaze was quickly back on Blade.

I would have a lot of time to admire the walls of my room, and I still felt the need to imprint each detail of this unique moment in my memory, or maybe just each detail of him.

His tall silhouette appeared less out of place surely because of all the paints, his once white tee-shirt having turned into a colorful tank top with his rolled sleeves, and that messed strand falling off his quiff to frame his already sharp-carved features, and finally, there was that smile, still the same with a green dot at the corner accentuating its wickedness.

"Don't thank me. That was fun! We could do it again."

Oh, and did I need to mention these bad intentions as he pointed his brush at my nose, his gaze wandering lower?

"I was talking about the room, not the mess of paint you did on my body." I shook my head, my attempt of fake disapproval ending in light laugh as he pulled me in his arms, or more exactly, he mixed the fresh paint on our bodies together to make a bigger mess.

"A hot mess," he remarked, leaning closer, and I was hyper-aware of the tip of his brush tickling my lower back, yet I couldn't focus on what he was tracing, and even less protest.

"You said you liked my tattoos? I gave you some too, you should thank me."

I really had to be more careful about my words because he never forgot. Yet it was impossible with his lips above my ear, and it surely wouldn't be today I would start thinking before speaking.

"They're not tattoos. They look like nothing."

"If that's only this, let me fix it."

I didn't get to process his Cheshire grin that I was backed up and lifted onto my desk, papers flying around like my thoughts, and I had no word left when he tilted my head to the side.

As fast as his movements, the atmosphere switched with the touch of his fine paintbrush on my neck, and the contrast with the playfulness from seconds before was felt all around: in his concentrated frown, in the caresses on my tender skin, and in the air that I breathed in deeper.

Everything was intent, and the spot he was painting hadn't been chosen randomly. It was the weak spot that was still reddened with his mark as if he wanted to claim it as his, when the light touch of the paintbrush was already tingling nerves deeper than this circle of skin.

I leaned on my hands to give him more access without even trying to decipher what he was drawing. He could have written 'mess' or 'fuck' or even 'his'; it didn't matter because what he was imprinting under my skin was the real ink. 

Each stroke of paintbrush traveled straight in strings of desire to my core, and each faint tap was a spark of fire. When he trailed to my jugular, he was arising the bangs of my heart there, stronger and stronger, and on top, there were also the tickles of his breaths, the clasp of his right hand under my jaw, and his penetrating gaze burning me.

Just a mere, simple gesture was overwhelming all my nerve-endings and spreading his mark throughout my whole body.

I didn't realize he was finished until he dropped the paintbrush, his left hand finding my hip, and the thin cylinder of wood ending on a sheet of paper on the floor. It left a dash of dark blue right under the word 'opportunities', and if it didn't bring an ounce of guilt, neither reminded me of the work I was supposed to do, the word appeared clearer than while all the hours I'd been seated at my desk.

I was still stuck in my bedroom, but seated on my desk, with Blade standing between my legs, and his lips peppering kisses around the 'tattoo' he'd painted, I felt all those possibilities.

It wasn't about breaking out of the walls literally or figuratively; it was creating the infinite inside them, like this room, like this tattoo, and I understood it as he whispered in my ear like a magic formula,

"Here you are."

I came back down to the drawing as his eyes were still focused on it with exactly the same look as when he'd carved my fidget toy.

"Can I see it?" It may not have been the most important, yet with all the sensations he'd already created, the curiosity only sprang fiercer.

As soon as he stepped away, I rushed down my desk, even faster than what my wobbly legs could handle, but luckily, he was there to hold my hand, not without a sly chuckle, of course, and when I stopped in front of the mirror, I didn't mind the raspy sound rumbling louder against my back.

So what is this tattoo? 👀🤔🤭 Tell me all your suppositions!!

And also let me know what you think about this new decoration!! I want the same in my bedroom (the starry sky ceiling and Blade 🤩😉)!

As for Meteorite, did you expect this? Isn't it so cute that Pete adopted it? 🥺

I hope you liked this chapter! If so, don't forget to vote ⭐ and comment! 

I love to hear from you and I'm excited to be back with this story! I missed it so much in just one week! 

PS: We're so close to 1k reads, do you think we could get to it before 2022? If so, I might have a little gift to celebrate... 😏😘