Kisses Start War

The studio was empty. The shelves on the far wall were still lined with drying projects from her classmates. Each wheel, usually filled with students and covered with clay, stood empty and cleaned after the long day of use Friday. When she slipped her keycard through the lock and pushed the heavy, wooden door open, she half expected a pack of her peers to be shuffling around the room, grabbing glazes or molding pinch pots.

However, the room was empty when she stepped in and she quickly moved to one of the cleared-off stations, dumping her bag and its contents onto the table. It wasn’t that Melanie wanted to be there on the weekend to finish up a series of assignments she had fallen behind on, but she was forced to. Pulling herself from Garrett’s arms proved to be the hardest part, as the weekend before he won the struggle and instead of going in to finish projects, she spent the day in bed with her boyfriend.

Melanie quickly got to work, pulling her latest project from the shelf and unwrapping it from the plastic around it. Then she walked around the room, gathering the tools she’d need to finish the first assignment she had to complete. Sure, she enjoyed the silence and the studio but the idea of going back home to Garrett distracted her. As her fingers smoothed down the clay, she couldn’t bit back the disappointment she felt that morning about leaving him.

They never got enough time together. His constant touring and her classes kept them busy, making even their time together stressful. Garrett was always being called away for band meetings or practices while she dealt with a full course load, complete with hours worth of homework and writing as well as studio time and group projects. The two were lucky if they got dinner together and could climb into their bed at the same time. There had been plenty of nights of the prior weeks where she’d get home hours before him, eating alone, dealing with her homework, finally crawling into their bed alone, too exhausted to wonder where he was.

This day had been their only opportunity in the week. Tomorrow Garrett was boarding a plane to play a show on the east coast and the week following was full of classes for her. She didn’t want to be there making vases and sets of dishes. All Melanie wished to do was to be curled up in his arms in their bed, sleeping and kissing, without the stresses of school distracting her.

After the first hour of her sitting alone in the studio working, she finished the first unfinished project. The vase sat in front of her, the clay still dark from the moisture. Sighing, she lifted her new creation by the base she built it on, taking it to the drying shelves. Next, she walked around to the other side of the room, collecting her recently-fired pieces and a pot of glaze before walking back to her station. It was her least favorite part; glazing was boring and mundane.

It was the knock on the door that broke her concentration. Melanie hadn’t expect any one else to need to use the studio and she checked the check-in sheet that morning to see she’d be alone all day. Setting the paintbrush and plate down on the table, she navigated her way around the rest of the room’s furnishings to the door. When she pulled the door open, wiping her hands off on her pants.

“Garrett?” She couldn’t bite back smile that pulled at her lips when she saw him. His hair still in a tangled mess, wet from the quick shower he must have had. The oversized sweater hung from his shoulders and the familiar bag of Chinese filled him hand.

“Hi baby.” He smiled back, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Figured I’d break ya some food.”

He slipped in the door before she could stop him, wrapping his free arm around her neck, kissing her again. Immediately, he pulled away with a scowl, untangling his arms from her to wipe his lips. “You taste like clay.”

Melanie still couldn’t believe he was standing there. She swore he’d spend most of the day in bed, only climbing out to get food. “Gar?” She repeated, eyes scanning over him again.

“Food, Mel.” He smirked, raising the bag in front of her. “I got your favorite too.”

It was a sweet gesture bur she knew the strict rules of the studio. No outside guests were allowed in the rooms and food was to be kept in the hallways leading to the rooms. A slight frown worked its way across her face as he continued into the room, circling the space and admiring the unfinished pieces by her peers.

“You can’t stay.”

He turned quickly, giving her another thick smirk. “And why’s that?”

“Rules, Gar.” She avoided his eyes. They were hard words to say because she wanted him there. The studio was quiet and boring, leaving her to think about how much she missed him and how much she’d rather be home.

“Rules suck.” He mumbled, “I’m incredibly helpful.”

She rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind her. “I’ll get a grade deduction.”

Her gaze followed him as he continued to ignore her, staying in the room instead. He moved slowly and his eyes scanned the mess of unfinished projects that filled the dusty shelves. When she said his name again, more agitated this time, he turned to her. Garrett didn’t speak as he walked towards her, setting the bag of Chinese food on the table where she’d dump her belongings. He wrapped his arms around her waist when he was close enough, pulling her against him and breath scattering across her lips.

“Don’t worry, baby.” He smiled pressing her closer to him, his voice lowering. “If someone comes in, which no one will, I’ll just hide under the table.”

His words didn’t reassure her any, but she still kissed him back, ignoring the pull in her to try to kick him out. Garrett was right; no one was even there to catch him.

“Well what did ya bring then?” She mumbled when he kissed down her jaw and neck. “I hope you remembered the egg rolls.”

Garrett exhaled into her neck, arms tightening around her. She went to speak again, to push the answer from him, but he stopped what she was going to say with a kiss to the base of her neck. Melanie couldn’t bite back the smile at the gesture, immediately sinking into his touch. It wasn’t until he moved back to kissing her, ready to deepen the kiss, did she tear away from him with a scolding look.

He didn’t even blush, stepping away from her silently. Garrett went to work pulling the boxes from the bag and she followed the routine, rinsing each brush out. When she finished, he ushered her over and pulled out her chair for her. They both ate, talking about their weeks and the weeks to come. He mentioned the bands, the parties, and the tours, all the things that came and went. She talked about school and work, skipping over anything he’d find particularly boring.

“So can you teach me?” He spoke between bites, gesturing to the wheels behind her.

Melanie glanced backwards once before scoffing, “You can’t even use chopsticks, Garrett.” Her eyes averted back to the food in the white containers as she gathered her next bite. “There’s no way you can do that.”

“Why would I waste my time using chopsticks if I have a fork that requires half the effort and twice the bite?” He shrugged, cheek half-full of his meal. “And what the fuck do chopsticks have to do with pottery, huh?”

Technically, the two skills had nothing in common. Plenty of her friends could easily make bowls, plates, mugs, and vases on the wheel but couldn’t eat with chopsticks. Melanie just knew he’d be awful at it. His clumsiness would prevent him from making anything besides a mess that he’d refuse to clean up, leaving her responsible to deal with. He wouldn’t have the patience for it, only making whatever mess that would form would grow worse.

She sent him a glare, leaning back against her chair. Garrett kept his eyes on her too. They both were completely silence.

“So you really won’t teach me then?”

Shaking her head, she reached forward, trying to grab a fortune cookie before Garrett snatched them away.

“C’mon. You owe me.”

“What do I owe you for?”

“I brought you Chinese.” He tried, holding the cookie closer to him as she waved her hand for it. “And I got out of bed to come see you and I’m a great boyfriend.”

“Oh really?” She scoffed again, “Compared to who?”

“Well, you could date John and deal with awkwardness or you could be with Ken and deal with his stupidity—“

Melanie dropped her hand against the table, the noise stopping Garrett’s words. “Fine.” She watched the smile spread over him. “But you have to promise you will never mention John ever again.”

* * *

“How are you so fuckin’ good at this?” She groaned as she watched his hands enclose around the wet clay, centering it on the wheel. “It’s not something you just, pick up.”

He chuckled softly, glancing up at her for only a second, before his eyes shot back down to his quickly-forming pot. “Bass hands, baby.” His tongue was between his lips as he began to build up the sides, hands moving slowly, “They do incredible things.”

Melanie could only roll her eyes, tearing her gaze away from him quickly. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair.” He smiled, glancing up at her with a smirk.

They both watched the new pot form, Garrett’s hands wound around the spinning clay. Melanie glared at the pot, jealous he’d learned so quickly. “How do you do that?"

Before she could step away, Garrett tugged at her wrist, pulling her down onto the small stool with him. She didn’t even get a chance to protest, he had trapped her against him, stopping her from slipping away by locking his arms around her waist. Her body was perfectly positioned between his legs so she too sat flat on the stool. He waited for her to relax in his grasp before his hands moved to hold her wrists, moving them towards the wet wheel.

“Lemme show you my technique.” He breathed into the concave of her neck.

She didn’t even get the object, before he pushed her torso forward with his, pressing her hands to the wet clay. It covered her hands and wrists, from both the pot and him. His chest was pressed to her back, lips centimeters from her ear. He didn’t say anything, instead guiding her hands to the spots he had them, applying the same pressure he had before. She stared at the bowl, mesmerized by the brown solid spinning in front of her.

“Are you paying attention. Mel?” Garrett breathed into her ear. Her attention diverted to him and his proximity. His breath was scattering across her neck and shoulder, his hands holding onto the backsides of hers, and his body around her. Melanie could barely nod before he said it again softer, pressing a kiss under her ear in the process.

“T-to what?” Her words were hardly there, the sigh that left her lips masking it.

Melanie could feel Garrett smile into her skin as he kissed her again and again and again. The pecks were quick and taunting, making her want to stop him and bring his mouth to hers. Except anytime she’d try to let got of the clay or move away, he’d tighten his hold on her so she’d stay in place, support both the pot and his slumped-over body.

“Well good,” He breathed again, putting some distance between his lips and her skin. “Because I’m gonna let go.”

Before she could tell him no, he was back to kissing her and teasing her. Even when she’d whine out his name now, he’d do nothing but slow his pace, driving her even more insane.

“Okay?”

She wanted to pull away and leave his pottery to him, but he pressed a final kiss to her clavicle, forcing her to stay. Right when he pulled away from the kiss, his hands dropped from hers and rested on the tray of the wheel, leaving her to mold the piece again. Garrett sat back in the chair stool, putting distance between her back and his chest.

Melanie survived supporting the bowl for a few seconds, trying to build up the sides as he had, before it all collapsed. Her finger went through the thinnest point, tearing off the entire upper half of the pot. She let out a frustrated groan, easing her foot of the pedal as Garrett wrapped himself around her again. “I ruined it.” She mumbled. The extra clay was pushed away and she went to grab a wire tool from the bowl of water sitting adjacent to them when he refuse to let her moved, clay-covered hands moving around her hips.

“Garrett.” Melanie looked down at the mud covering her shirt and the bit on her skin beneath it. “You got clay on me.”

He smirked when she twisted to see him and give him a glare. “You destroyed my pot.” The smile grew, his muddy hand rising up and his thumb brushing across her cheek, leaving a brown streak across her skin. “Now we’re even.”

Neither even realized it when she pressed both her hands to his cheeks, letting out a heavy laugh when she pulled them away to see what she’d done. Garrett didn’t crack a smirk when he leaned forward, grabbing some of the muddy water from the tray surround the wheel and flicking it in her face.

It wasn’t long before the two were in a clay fight. Garrett flicked clay in her face and hair and she pressed the brown material onto his chest, back, and in his hair. Both were smiling, fighting over the bowl of dirty water that sat by the wheel. Garrett tore it from her hands, dumping it over her when she squealed. It only took her moments to pick up the slimy mess of the collapsed pot and rub it into his hair and clothes. They were both covered in mud and water, both’s chest caving in and out as they caught their breaths from giggling some much, and both watching the other to insure they didn’t make anymore moves.

Garrett took a step past her when she glanced down, attempting to pick a chunk of clay away from her shirt. Her actions stopped when she heard Garrett turn the sink’s water on. Flipping around, she caught him smiling, the bowl full again of clear water. She barely even got the chance to say anything before he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. First, he pressed a kiss to her lips, wincing at the taste of the cold clay on her skin and then lifted the bowl, pouring the water over her head as she shrieked.

The heavy, stern knock on the door stopped her from trying the same on him. Before she could clean anything up or hide Garrett in the closet, she heard the door unlock and the director’s head pop in. Her eyes widened at the sight of them and Melanie could see the smirk she was biting back. Garrett looked ridiculous, there was clay in his hair and covering his face. Most of it was beginning to dry, clumping his strands of hair together and leaving his face crackled and brown. The woman shot her eyes to Melanie then, glaring.

“What’s going on?” She snapped, pushing the door open further. “What’s this mess?”

Melanie could barely stutter out an answer, giving Garrett a fearful glance. “We—I m-mean…I…”

The directer raised her finger, stopping Melanie’s words. “Who’s he?”

“G-Garrett.” She mustered up a smile.

“He’s a student here?”

Shaking her head, she looked back at him again. “No.”

The woman glanced around the room, glaring again. “Clean this all up before you go.”

“W-what?” Melanie looked at her, confused. She was supposed to join the list of students who weren’t allowed to use the studios without a teacher present and lose a letter grade.

The woman looked at her, a small smile covering her face. “Just clean it all up.”

Garrett sauntered over after the door clicked shut, the director leaving the room. Melanie still stood by in shock, confused by the sudden policy change. “W-what was that?”

He only shrugged and kissed her, pressing his body to hers.