Crayons

Astrid was sitting on Dante's couch, staring absent-mindedly at the television. She never watched TV on her own, only with him. And The Sopranos was interesting and all, but she was getting restless; bouncing her leg and chewing on her nails. Wretched ADHD!

"Losing interest in all the cement shoes?" Dante grinned, looking at her. He himself had been spacing out, wonderig why he watched the damn show in the first place. It was so repetitive.

"Can you tell?" She grinned up at him, pulling her hoodie tighter around her. Leaning back in the couch, and propping her feet on the edge of the coffee table, Astrid sighed, and wrinkled her nose. "We should do something."

He cast a glance outside, into the dark and still snowless night. "Like what?" He shut the TV off and focused his attention on her, oblivious to the adoring look he was giving her.

She thought about this. What could they do, preferably here in the safety and comfort of his apartment? Drumming her fingertips on a denimed knee, mouth twisting to one side as she hummed. "Mn ... I know." There was a that impish grin. "We should colour."

The grin he was wearing broke out into an even wider one. "Color?" He stood and stretched.

"Yeah. You know, with crayons, and markers, and ..." She trailed off, and clapped her hands together, beaming. "Hold on!" And with that, she scurried off to his bedroom, where she kept her bag and other miscellaneous effects. There was the sound of papers shuffling; and in a moment, she appeared armed with crayons, markers, and paper. "I came prepared." And looked quite pleased with herself!

If possible, his grin stretched even wider. He stood there, looking at her, grinning and shaking his head. "You.." He trailed off. "Come here, you," he said, holding out his arms and laughing.

There was that nose wrinkle again. "Don't laugh at me!" She was pouting, but happily fell into his arms, snuggling against his chest. "Besides," she said as she deposited the drawing implements on the table, and knelt down, spreading everything out, "when was the last time you coloured?"

He thought about that, then shrugged. "Who knows." He stared silently down at his blank sheet of paper for a moment, and then grinned. "Let's play a game. How 'bout we draw messages for each other, and guess what they are? Sorta like Pictionary but, well, not."

She considered this for a moment as she opened up the boxes of crayons and markers. "Alright, sure. But you start, since it was your idea."

"Gee, thanks." He took a crayon the color of the sky on a clear day and thought for a moment. No, not right. This time he selected a brown crayon and drew an eye. With a red crayon he drew a heart and, returning to the brown crayon, drew a pair of eyes. Corny, he supposed, but why not be honest?

She leaned against him, watching him, head tilted to the side. "Interesting ... I like the eyes." Astrid sat back, and looked at him pointedly. "Tell me about it."

Dante blushed, then rubbed unconsciously at the stubble on his face. "Well," he started, feeling like a child who is asked to explain a note written to his classroom crush. "You're supposed to guess," he said, feeling lame.

She noticed the blush, and hid a grin. A little sadistic part of her liked putting him on the spot, forcing him to explain himself .... but damn, he got her there! She hated analysing things like art outloud, for fear she'd get it wrong. "The eyes are yours, aren't they?"

He bit down on his lower lip and shook his head. "No.. Guess again," he said, feeling more self-assured now that he had her.

Pout! She crossed her legs, and looked down at the picture, then at him, the bridge of her nose wrinkling. "Do the number of eyes have a certain significance?" Up wen the eyebrows, cautious.

He suppressed a laugh and shook his head. "Hang on." He picked up the sky-blue crayon and between the heart and the pair of eyes added 'UR'. He hated to make it so easy on her but at the rate she was going, soon she'd be psycho-analyzing the damn thing.

Hey, she sometimes missed out on the little details! Too busy looking at the big picture, but the added detail made her blink, perk back up. "My eyes?" A little laugh, as she covered her face. "I can't believe I didn't get that!"

He took her hand and planted a kiss on it. "Messages to each other, see?" Now it was his turn to feel proud of himself.

"I'm good at this verbally, not pictorally." She scrunched her face up. "Shit, is that even a word? Pictorally ..." Reaching into her memory banks, then shrugging. "Oh, well. My turn!" A wicked grin stretched across her lips as she withdrew a green crayon, and black one, then a red and orange one ... Scribbling away for a long moment, before the sheet of paper was prould ybrandished: she had takena page from his book, starting her's off with a green eye, then a red heart ... and then a drawing of a ... chicken?

Dante picked up the drawing and held it up in front of him for a moment, studying it. "I love KFC?" He turned it sideways. "Are you hungry? Want me to go grab some grub?"

That made her laugh. "No! Keep trying ... I am hungry, though. Think about that one while I grab something." Still grinning evilly to herself, she got up and headed into the kitchen, sticking a bag of popcorn into the microwave.

Biting down on his lower lip, listening as she rummaged around in his kitchen, Dante studied the drawing once more. "I love chicken boyfriends?" He called, laughing.

"Nope! ..... You do kind of have chicken legs, though." Only teasing. Her giggles were heard above the sound of the popcorn cooking.

"Do not," he called back, only half hearing her laughter. Let her laugh. He'd figure this out. ..Maybe. "Do I get to use a lifeline?"

"Sure!" She found the popcorn bowl, and fished it out of the cabinent, before stepping back over to him. The brown crayon was selected, and in between the heart and the chicken, the letters U R were added.

"I'm a chicken?" He snatched up a handful of popcorn and tossed some into his mouth.

She playfully tugged at a strand of his hair, albiet gently. "Think dirty."

Again he studied the drawing, this time turning it round and round. Then, when understanding--at least what he thought was understanding--dawned on him, his eyes lit up in surprise. "You love my...?" He looked down at his lap, as if to emphasize what he was getting at. Oh, he hoped he was right.

Now she had him! She clapped her hands and laughed delightfully, plopping down next to him on the floor. "Hah! Got you there!" Oh, did she look proud of herself! "That wasn't a bad drawing of a chicken, either ..."

Dante looked at her, then burst into loud peals of laughter. He took her hands in his and laughed until tears streamed out of his eyes. Still laughing, he planted a kiss on the middle of her forehead and struggled to his feet, pulling her up with him.

Up she went, pressing herself lightly around him; her arms coiling around his waist. Her head tilted up, and she pressed a kiss to his chin, still beaming proudly. "See? I knew colouring was a good idea!"

"Well, as I remember, the messages were my idea," he said, kissing her full on the lips every now and then.

"So they were." She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. "Still, this is fun!" A fingertip gently propped his side. "In any event, it's your turn to draw something."

delirious 19th: A wicked grin came over his face and he released her. Squatting on the living room floor, Dante picked up a bright red crayon and produced a rough stick-figure drawing of the X-rated sort. Grinning, he revealed it to Astrid. "Ta-da!"

She peered at the drawing. "Stick-figure sex ... trying to tell me something?" She seized the blue crayon, and underneath the stick figures, drew a pair of what looked to be baseballs, colouring them in blue.

Her boyfriend's mouth dropped open, and he snatched the drawing from her. "You wouldn't!" Using a black crayon he drew a TV displaying more of the crude stick-figure sex, along with a couch set in front of the television, a stick figure man sitting on it and taking care of himself. "So there!" He stuck his tongue out at her, fighting to hide the smile that threatened to show itself.

Those greengrey eyes went wide, and she gasped. "Hey! No fair!" The black crayon was grabbed from him, and she drew a stick figure woman on her back; switching to a pink crayon, drawing what appeared to be a vibrator. "Touché!"

"Well, let's get started then!" He crossed the room and turned on the television. He then began to rummage through a cabinet underneath the TV, whistling as he did so.

Oh snap! Astrid jumped to her feet, standing back to watch. "You wouldn't!" .... Would he?

"I am," he said, selecting a tape (old school!) and popping it into the VCR. On his way back to the couch he picked up the bowl of popcorn and, stretching out on the couch, settled it onto his stomach, remote in hand. A devilish, boyish grin had settled onto his face.

"You won't," she stated firmly, arms folding tightly on her rib cage. She shook strands of magenta out of her line of vision, but remained still; leaning forwards slightly as she watched him, eyes taunting him. He couldn't go through with it! No way in hell.

"Will," he said firmly, and pressed the fast-forward button, to the good part. With his free hand he unzipped his pants.

"Uh-uh." Astrid shook her head, but firmed her stance, poised to strike.

Shrugging innocently from his place on the couch, Dante pressed Play on the remote and watched as two girls made out and stripped each other down to no more than panties. "Vintage," he said dreamily, remembering a time when porn had been his only companion. Besides Jack Daniels, of course. His hand crept to the waistband of his pants, fingers burrowing in.

That was it! She couldn't watch this any more! The young Nordic woman angled her way to the table first, a red marker seized and uncapped, before she tumbled head-first onto Dante's lap, scribbling on his face with the marker. "Haha! I told you so!"

Eyes squeezed shut against the attacking marker, Dante grabbed her, consequentially knocking the popcorn bowl to the floor. Popcorn spilled everywhere but he took no notice. Fingers hooked at her hips and tickled. He turned his face away from the marker, only making it worse in the process. He now looked like a college frat boy who had had too much to drink during his first house party.

"The popcorn --" She was cut off by gasping peals of laughter; causing her to wriggle in his lap like a fish. She shoved at his chest whilst laughing, eyes closed and tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "Stooop!" A desperate wail, yet she continued to swipe at his face, his skin, anything with the offending marker.

Angry red slashes bled across his face, arms, and neck. Even the white tee shirt he had for some reason decided to wear tonight was criss-crossed in loud red. "I'll stop if you stop!" Still tickling, raising his voice to be heard over her laughter.

"Fine!" And with that, she threw the marker aside, rolling off of him and landing hard on the floor, clutching her sides. Her laughter turned to wheezing, turned to coughing, and she sat up, her face red. "Oh, God!"

He sat up in a flash, on the floor beside her in another half second. "You okay?" He pulled her close to him, face red from not only the marker but laughter.

She gasped for air, and it took the girl several moments to regain her composure, breathing normally. "I'm fine," she exhaled, and sank against him, closing her eyes. Though after a moment, she opened them, gazing up at his red-slashed face. "Nice. The red really brings out the colour of your eyes, you know .."

Dante burst into laughter all over again, holding her against him and shaking hard. "You and markers are dangerous," he managed.

She laughed, and found the marker nearby, capping it. "Well, that's what you get when you colour with me. Next time, I'll try to use the crayons."