A paint brush is positioned between my fingers, hovering over a clean white canvas. A light blue shade is smeared on the tip but before any color transfers I put it down. I let out a frustrated sigh. This has never happened before, which makes it all the more discouraging. My mind is as blank as the canvas itself.

I used to think I would combust with lines and shapes and colors because my mind was full of creation. But none of it, not even a tiny dot, is left. 

My mind wanders to Jackson instead. It's been a week since the McDonalds incident. He's avoided me since, even going as far as ditching detention. I don't know why. I though we were getting along fine but I guess I was wrong. Another frustrated sigh leaves my throat.

I throw the brush against the wall. Sparkles of blue dash all over the white wall and the brush falls to the floor with a clack. 

"Fudging hell..." I mumble. 

With another sigh, I get up from the chair to retrieve a washcloth from my bathroom. But when I get back and look at the wall again, the last thing that comes to mind is washing it away. Instead, I pick up the brush and start dragging the color out. I dip my brush directly in the small tub of blue paint and transfer it onto the wall. The strokes are messy and I don't even have enough paint to cover a square meter of the wall. It's blotchy and uneven, specks of white peeking through.

It clashes with the clean white look my room has. I almost laugh at the thought. 

I remember seeing a catalogue on the kitchen counter when I was around 13. Mom had just bought it at the grocery store and I was looking through it while she was making some sort of casserole. 

"Oh look at that room! Isn't it so pretty?" she said with enthusiasm.

I studied the picture. 'White wonder' was written over it in faded gray cursive letters. The picture was displaying a bedroom with a king sized double bed. White sheets, light gray pillows and a soft white duvet. The walls were a bright white color as well, almost reflecting the sunlight from the window. It was all plain white.

"Yeah. It's really pretty. I like it."

"Oh you do? Well I bet we could get daddy to redo your room if you'd like. We could even get you that bed. Do you want that?" Mom was almost ecstatic.

Does a white box really make her that excited and happy?  I thought of my bedroom as it was. Light purple walls and pink curtains. A bunk bed with a princess cover. Colors clashed all over. But I loved my room.

"Yeah. Sure. I think it's time to clean it  up a bit." I smiled at my mom as she strutted to the casserole that was now ready to be taken out of the oven.

The memory replays in my mind several times. My mom would have a fit if she saw the blue square on my wall. 

"Adeline!" Tyler comes barging in my room. He stops abruptly when he sees the situation I've created. A funny look crosses his features. "Uh... Are you gonna clean that up?"

"No." I cross my arms. My eyes narrow in a glare.

Tyler narrows his own eyes. "I was just asking." He copies my position.

"Why are you in here?" 

Tyler lets out a sigh. His shoulders fall a bit and I almost pull my glare back. We've been on rocky roads ever since he and Hailee broke up. Ever since he broke them up.

"There's someone-

He's interrupted when another person comes barging into my room. My glare falls as surprise takes over. I'm pretty sure my mouth is open and my eyes are about to pop out.

"I thought I told you to wait outside." Tyler directs the glare in Jacksons direction and Jackson glares back.

"And I thought I said I don't take orders from anyone."

Tyler takes a step in his direction and I can already smell blood.

"Guys knock it off. Tyler, control yourself. And Jackson, why are you here?" I look expectantly at both of them.

"I came to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Because I have something to tell you."

I nod my head, indicating for him to continue. Jackson only gives Tyler a pointed look to which I roll my eyes at.

"Tyler leave."

When he doesn't budge I practically shove him halfway out the door before he complies and step out.

"Keep the door open."

I give him a big smile, waiting for him to turn and leave before I slam the door shut.

"So," I turn to Jackson again, "what do you wanna talk about?"

Jackson is taking in my room, lifting random objects and studying the few pictures I have displayed. He stops and stares at the blue patch and I shift on my feet, uncomfortable.

"You redecorating?"

"Uh... Yes?" I comes out as a question and I continue to squirm awkwardly.  

"It's a nice color. It almost looks like the sky on a sunny day. But I much prefer the night sky though."

Me too. "Oh."

"So what are you gonna do with the rest of your room?"

"Jackson stop the bullshit. Why are you really here? Because I doubt you came to help me redecorate."

Now it's Jacksons turn to shift uncomfortably. 

"I just... I don't know... I guess I came to apologize?"

"For which part excactly?"

Jackson cringes at my bluntness.

"Guess I deserved that one." He laughs awkwardly but my face remains set in stone. I've never seen him like this. So not in control of a situation. So hesitant and almost unsure.

"Okay look. I guess I just didn't expect you to answer that."

"Answer what?"

He lets out a sigh again. "When I asked you about what you really thought of me. It just... Well I just... Yeah." He shuffles a hand through his hair, rubbing his neck in the process.

I fidget again, my face softening to a small smile. "Oh. Well, I meant it though."

Jackson is staring at me again like I'm a piece of art he's trying to analyze. His eyes have a glint to them and they're slightly squinted, in concentration. My hair falls down in front of my face when I look down. 

I see Jacksons hand before I feel it. His fingertips are gracing my cheek, combing through my dark waves as he brushes it behind my hair. A heatwave washes over me. The notion leaves a tingling sensation and a corner of my lip quirk up a millimeter. I feel butterflies fluttering and my cheeks are flushed red and I know he can see it, even if he is ignoring it. His fingers linger in my hair, brushing lightly through the ends of my strands.

"Jackson-

"Come boxing with me? I have a match in a few hours. Help me warm up. I'll teach you some, like I said I would." I feel his breath lightly fanning my face, making my hairs stand. His voice has never been so smooth and soft, almost like silk wrapping around my ears. 

I don't trust myself to speak so I only nod ever so slightly. Jackson gives a small smile and a nod as well, and then the heat is gone. His body moves around me swiftly and he heads for the door. I'm stood rooted to my spot a few moments longer, trying desperately to recollect my composure.

...

The whole ride to the gym is awkward. Jackson has turned on the radio on maximum volume to avoid any talking. No matter how long I stare at him, he doesn't even flicker his eyes in my direction.

When we arrive, the parking lot is almost full. I don't see Tylers', or I guess our, car and relief washes over me. 

"Should I even be here?" I ask.

"No." His voice is nonchalant and I want to slap him and his mask away.

"Well then take me home," I say.

"No."

"Jackson, seriously. You can't just demand me to do whatever pleases you." I'm beginning to get annoyed. Jackson shifts in his seat so he's facing me. His expression is taught and his eyes are blazing into my own.

I swallow a lump in my throat but I refuse to back down. His expression softens after a moment and his eyes look down for a brief second.

"It's not safe for you to be here," he says. "But I can't leave you alone. Not now."

I give him a frustrated sigh. "Why? Why is it not safe? I don't get it..."

Jackson struggles to find words and he opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish several times.

"I'm doing this for you. It's for your own safety."

I still don't understand what he means but I get out of the car anyways, making my way between horribly parked cars and through the doors. 

My bag is hanging loosely of my shoulder, bumping into my thigh with every step. I make my way to the girls locker room without even looking back at Jackson, who just came in swearing under his breath.

I was wise enough to bring my own clothes this time, not wanting to wear some sweaty and dirty clothes from the 'lost and found' bin again.

When I make my way into the gym it's packed full. Guys are grunting as they benchpress their bodyweight and a strong stench of sweat and axe body spray makes its way to my nostrils. Nobody seems to even notice me and I can't find Jackson in the crowd. 

"Hey there, nice to meet you again." 

The voice slices me like a knife and my spine stiffens. My heart is increasing speed and when I turn around to face him it stops.

His hair is as curly as it was the other night, and his eyes just as icy. My breath comes in deep thrusts and I try desperately to think of an escape route. 

"I'm Shawn," he says. He takes a step towards me and I immediately flinch back.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Shawn has a genuine smile on his face now. He really is a wolf in sheep skin I think. I look into his eyes and I'm almost certain I see regret. 

Before I can do anything Jackson comes out from nowhere and steps a little in front of me but not enough to block us apart.

"Jack! I didn't think you'd show tonight," Shawn says. His smile is broader now and it's almost like he thinks they're buddies. Are they?

"And why not?" Jacksons voice is strained and I see his fists tightening until his knuckles are white.

Shawn shrugs his shoulders. "Sebastian said you'd been out of it lately." 

"Well I'm not." 

"Cool dude. So, who's the chick?" I stiffen at his words, not wanting to be part of the conversation. Jackson turns to look at me and when he sees my timidness his face softens.

"Is this the guy?" he whispers but I know Shawn can hear it. I give a slight nod and Jackson is about to go livid.

He turns around, stepping right in front if me so I'm shielded from Shawns' view.

"Jack, Jackson wait. I know what you're about to do but it wasn't my choice. I was just following orders. And I didn't even finish the job. I was supposed to leave her unconscious."

Shawns' words stumble out if his mouth almost in a panicked manner. People have stopped what they're doing and are now staring at us, waiting for Jackson to act.

Before knowing it I've stepped in front of Jackson. The look in his eyes almost scare me but I know he won't hurt me. He's shooting daggers at Shawn and it looks like he could kill him if he got the chance.

"Jackson. Look at me," I say. My voice is calmer than I feel. He doesn't budge. I take a step closer, until I can feel the heat radiating off of his body. I have to crane my neck up to look him in the eyes. 

"Jackson..." I whisper. His eyes flicker to mine for a millisecond but he doesn't back down. I take his hand, rubbing it until he loosens his fist. His skin is rough yet warm and I don't know if I'm doing it to bring him comfort or me. He looks down at me and his eyes are so lost. It's like he doesn't know what he was about to do. Like he really was Lucifer, for just a fraction of a moment. And I know it scared him because it scared me too.

"It's okay," I continue whispering. "I'm fine. I don't want you to hurt anyone for me."

Jackson studies me. Our proximity is making me all kinds of flustered and nervous. He nods his head and lets out a long breath. A strand of his curly brown hair falls down over his eyes and I want to push it back and let my fingers run through his hair.

But someone clears their throat and the moment breaks. I take step back and my grip on Jacksons hand loosens. His tightens though and he fiddles to intertwine our fingers. I look at him and the look he gives in return makes me give his hand a little squeeze. 

We both turn to Shawn who shifts uncomfortably on his feet. The look he's giving us make a blush tint my cheeks.

"I'm sorry eh..."

"Adeline," I fill in.

"Adeline. I'm sorry. I'm not really a bad guy, I swear." Shawn is giving me a pleading look. Maybe he really is just a sheep?

I clear my throat before giving a slightly forced smile. "It's okay. I'm not mad at you."

Relief washes over his face and the carefree grin is back.

"But promise me that you won't beat up anyone again."

He gives an awkward laugh. "You do realize I'm a boxer right? It's kind of what I do."

My features don't change and I'm giving him a stern look. After a quick stare-down he realizes I'm not joking.

"I won't beat up anyone innocent again just because someone tells me to, okay? That's all I can promise you."

A small smile makes its way to my lips and I give a nod. Jackson gives my hand a tug and I turn to him.

"Hmm?"

"Let's get out of here."

I give a snort at the cheesy line. "Why? I thought you had a fight tonight."

He shakes his head. "I don't feel like fighting right now."

I stare at him for a while. He's hiding his emotions again. I can tell because his eyes are sort of glazed over, the real sparkle gone. But I know he's not really shutting me out because his thumb is stroking my hand and it's almost making me dizzy. A good kind of dizzy. the kind of dizzy where you can't really think or concentrate because all you feel is the intensity of the touch.

I give a slight nod and then we get out and drive away.

---

A/N:

Holy crap! Oh my God. Of my effing God. 1.1K! This story has reached over 1.1K reads!

That's insane to me. I don't even know what to say besides THANK YOU.

Thank you for reading my story. Thank you for voting. And thank you for leaving such amazing comments.

I remember a while ago I wrote in my diary that my goal was 1000 reads. I was at 250 reads then, and it might sound silly but hoping for 1000 was a big deal for me. I just feel so happy:) I really hope you guys are enjoying reading this story just as much as I enjoy writing it.

I love you all<3

xoxo