The Paint Job

I look around my plain white apartment with excitement, and then my eyes pan over to the buckets of paint on the floor lined with newspaper taped down; fueling my happiness. I take in a breath and exhale, ready to start anew in this apartment of mine. I hear the doorbell ring, and I quickly walk over to it, knowing exactly who it would be. I open the door and in walks my childhood friend; my best friend, Chris.

“Hey, stranger!” I say to him as he walks in from the doorway with some paint brushes and a set of speakers with his ipod intact. I roll my eyes at him as he places the stuff down to pull me into a hug; a bone cracking hug. “Chris Evans, if your arms get any bigger, you’re going to snap me like a damn twig!” I exclaim as I wrap my arms around him in return, wanting to preserve this moment forever.

“I’m sorry, Harley girl!” He replies as he places me down on the ground. I watch him walk towards the window in my living room. I follow him over to it, and he turns towards me with a smile, and back to the window. “It’s good to be home. With filming and all that, getting to come home was not much of an option for me,” he adds. “I hate being away from here. From Boston,” he says as he gazes out at the streets of his hometown.

“It’s where you came from, of course you like being here!” I retort as I begin opening up the cans of paint, and pouring them into the roller box.

“That certainly is a big reason, but there’s so much more than that. Boston’s always going to be a special place to me!” He replies as he crouches down next to me, helping with the other buckets. He claps his hands together as we successfully finish that part of the job, and he smiles. “Well, let’s get to work!” He adds, grabbing a large roller and dipping it into the paint. I follow in suit, and the two of us get back to work.

Thirty minutes go by, and the two of us are laughing and joking around and I run to grab two bottles of water for the two of us. I place his down on the table next to me, and I start to watch him work as I drink mine.

My fondness for Chris has cultivated over years and years of fond memories and amazing friendship, into something so much more. It genuinely scared me, knowing that he would instantly reject me for not wanting to ruin the friendship that we have.

Also, I’m nothing special; at least I didn’t think so. I’m a tall girl, standing at about five feet nine inches; thin as a rail with some sort of curve to my body, and normal brown hair, and normal blue eyes. And I watched Chris grow from a normal scrawny Boston kid, to the Bostonian Adonis that he is now, with his broad chest, chiseled jaw line, lean stomach and lean everything else. His eyes were something that’s always been consistent; a beautiful blue that one could always get lost in. I fall victim to those eyes many of times. I continue to watch his back muscles tighten and relax as he makes large strokes of blue paint across the wall. I quickly turn away as he turns back to me.

“Hey, Carter!” He exclaims, calling out to me by my last name. “Are you going to help me out here?” He asks with a chuckle. “Your apartment, not mine!” He adds, and I walk up to him and smack his shoulder as I brush along the wall with my roller. He walks away and I continue to paint the wall with this beautiful shade of blue.

All of a sudden, I hear the sound of a snare drum come from behind me. I smile, knowing exactly what song this is: Redbone’s Come and Get Your Love. Chris and I used to dance to this song all the time as kids in my dad’s car shop. I smile at the memory as I shake my hips to the beat, continuing to paint while doing so.

“Hey! Hey! What’s the matter with your head, baby? Yeah!” I hear Chris mumbling the words
behind me as he rolls his roller into the paint. I hear his footsteps behind me coming closer, and further, closer further. I turn around to see him dancing with the roller he has in his hands.

“Hey! Hey! What’s the matter with your mind and your sign and- Ohhhh!” I start to quietly sing along, still moving my hips to the beat. I hear his feet stop shuffling, and the music continues to play along with his singing. I smile as I close my eyes and listen to him, laughing at the parts where he messes up. I feel his feet start moving again, closer to me, and he comes up next to me, and starts painting the wall again.

“Hey! Hey! Nothing’s the matter with your head, baby! Find it, come on and find it!” The two of us start singing it rather poorly together, doing a hip bump type dance move as we paint. The two of us finish the side of the wall that we’ve been working on for the last forty minutes, and I turn to him with a smile, as I then bend down to grab more paint.

“Hell with it baby, ‘cause you’re fine and you’re mine, and you look so divine! Come and get your love!” Chris starts screaming and before I know it, I’m hoisted up off the floor, getting spun around. My uncontrollable laughter makes me unable to even hear the music playing in the background. He places me back down on the floor and spins me around, and pulls me into him. He takes my paint brush out of my hand and places both of them onto the floor, taking my hands in his and swaying me some more. I go to sit down and pull him down with me. He grabs his water off the table and starts drinking it.

“So Boston’s a special place to you, huh?” I ask him and he nods. “And you being from here isn’t the top reason?” I ask another question, and he shakes his head. “So what are some reasons why? Enlighten me!” I add.

“Well,” He says as he begins placing his bottle back on the table. “My favorite places to eat are here, the Sox are here, the Celtics are here,” he begins naming off stuff and I playfully shove him. “Alright, alright. Let’s get serious,” he says as he begins to shake out his arms, and literally loosen up. I chuckle at his movements, and he smiles at me.

“Okay, Captain America. Let’s hear it. Let’s get serious!” I reply as I scoot closer to him, making our knees touch. He laughs as he places his hands on my knees.

“You know how they say that ‘home is where the heart is’?” He asks me, and I nod as I also drink my water. I place my water bottle down next to his, and look back at him.

“Chris, go on. You’re looking like you really need to get this out,” I say to him, sounding confused. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay!” Chris replies. “So anyway, Boston is my home. And, I believe that whole thing because…” He stops again, and shrugs with a smile. “…because you’re here,” he finishes with a breathy response. “Everything I love is here; my teams,” he starts out, making me laugh. My mind continues to register what I’m hearing. “Everything I love…my family, friends…you.”

My mouth opens a bit due to the shock of all of this. I eventually remember how to smile, and I take his face into my hands and lay a kiss on his lips. His hands find their way behind my back and he pulls me into his lap and he deepens the loving gesture, sending chills right up my spine and to everywhere else. He pulls away from me, and stands up on the floor and pulls me to my feet, and kisses me again, his left hand fitting perfectly in the small of my back, while his other hand rests on the back of my neck. I pull away from him, with a stupid smile on my face.

“I hope that registered as ‘I feel the exact same way’!” I say to him, making the both of us laugh. I forget about the music in the background, and he begins swaying with me to the last couple seconds of the song.

Come and get your love, come and get your love. Come and get your love…

“I think we can finish the other walls later,” Chris states quietly as he leans his forehead against mine. He pulls me into him for another quick kiss, and grins. The two of us walk over to my couch and I cuddle up into his lap, and place a kiss on the side of his head. “Much later,” he adds, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into another kiss.