Bury Me in Black

"It's down here follow me." I followed Gerard down some old concrete stairs that lead to a door, the basement.

"Home sweet home." He said as he unlocked and opened the paint chipped door. I stepped inside the dark room. He flipped on the light near the door and I could see everything clearer. There were wood-paneled walls that were covered with posters and sketches that were roughly tacked onto the walls. The dark blue carpet was strewn with clothes, CD's, and other shit, just like the floor in his van. There was an unmade bed in the far corner and a table parallel to it with a TV with video gamed hooked up to it. There was also a barley visible acoustic guitar on the ground that was covered by clothing.

"Sorry it's a little messy, I usually only have the guys down here." He said very embarrassed.

"No worries. I can't believe you have this whole basement as your room though it's so cool."

"Yea, I guess it is." he said a little more confidant, "Shall we get started?"

"Sure."

"Come here." I followed him to the part of the room where he was, but something on my way over caught my eye.

"HOLY SHIT! " I said, well more like screamed when I saw what was on his desk.

"Hahaha, that's just my paperweight, it was my grandfathers."

"Your grandfather kept a paperweight of a bat preserved in Plexiglas?"

"I guess you could say weirdness run's in the family."

"Uhhh ok, anyways back to our portraits."

"Yea come here,” he said very seriously, I made my way over to him and stood next to him. He then took a step closer to me so that are noses were but an inch apart. He took his hand and brushed the hair out of my face and behind my ear. He stared at me for a couple of more seconds until he finally said,

"Now we can see your pretty face!" he said it in a very gay voice that made me crack up.

"Hahaha, yea sure." I said sarcastically, "Now how do you want me to stand, or sit or whatever."

"Um, here lay on my bed" he said as he patted it, and I did, " put your arm like this," he picked up my arm and put it over part of my face, his touch surprisingly sent butterflies in my stomach. He then took my hair and partly covered one eye.

"Perfect." I heard him whisper. You would think that this would be really awkward, me lying on his bed while he stared at me, but surprisingly it wasn't. I felt comfortable around him.

He sat on the floor with his charcoals and began drawing. After a few min. he spoke,

"Hey Cesc, what did you mean when you said 'yea right' when I told you that you had a pretty face?"

"Umm well let's just say I'm not expecting someone to ask me to walk down the runway anytime soon."

"Girls are so complicated,” he said, but his eyes were still on his giant sketchpad.

"What do you mean?"