— Aurelia Perlman :

After my horrid encounter with Ares, I hurriedly made my way to the art room, not wanting to be any later than I already was and wordlessly walked in. Romeo was seated on a black stool tainted with coloured paint and he was painting the view outside of the floor-length windows and, as he was so engrossed in his art, he didn't even notice the loud sound of the door being opened. Compared to this morning, the weather had drastically changed. The sky no longer was grey with an abundance of clouds; the sunlight had managed to prevail and maintained an illuminating light that made me feel a little happier inside.

I was proud of myself, standing up to Ares Dechiel was no easy task. In fact, it had never even been done before. No one was able to win an argument with Ares, not even his parents. That's why they left him alone. I guess he thought that made him superior to everyone else, the fact that people feared him. He liked being feared, I recalled, loving when people would stand back from him as if he was the devil and he was the devil. Ares Dechiel was a sadist and particularly enjoyed being feared which I never understood. He told me I would never understand and he was right, I couldn't. I couldn't comprehend as to why he loved people being afraid of him but he did love conflict and was true to his brute of a name. But this time I won. And it felt good. I felt good.

Silently, I tiptoed over to Romeo not wanting him to know that I was watching him paint. I had to admit, it was pretty satisfying watching Romeo, the way he painted could easily be argued as the art itself. His painting was, of course, beautiful, the sky was shaded to perfection, the clouds and the trees were so realistic it was as if it were a photograph instead. I couldn't wait to praise him. It seemed as if I was those people who were unable to accept compliments but were able to give them. And I did give them. I was the type of person who loved to give rather than receive. I was born with privilege and money, some people had neither. To me, it felt like I had to give back, it was only fair. I had so much and donating to those who didn't was a great way to make them happy. And I loved seeing others happy.

"I can see you, Aurelia." He uttered, turning his whole body around to face me on the stool he was seated on. Because I was feeling a little embarrassed, I looked down and could feel some heat rising to my cheeks. I was blushing, I had never been provoked into blushing before.

"It's really pretty." Was I talking about the painting or him? I didn't know the answer to that. I sauntered over to him and stood close behind him, my body almost touched him. I could hear his heart beating faster and was pleased my close proximity had caused such a turbulent reaction. Slowly as to not startle him and possibly ruin his painting, I placed my hand on his shoulder and his breath hitched a little in his throat as his hands reached up to fix his tie. It was already neat though.

"You're really pretty." He responded as he swivelled his body around meeting my eyes as he did so. Despite the fact that he was perched on a stool, I still had to crane my neck up a little to face him properly. An amused smirk reached his face because of this and I shook my head at his childish antics. I had never met someone who exudes so much authority yet still acted completely immature. It was new to me, Ares and his friends were all stuck up assholes who only cared about themselves and their reputation. They weren't playful with anyone other than those whom they were close to and they weren't close to many people. Instead, they constantly ridiculed anyone they deemed as easy to ruin, and they did ruin them. I was against their actions and made it known, that was partly why Ares and I constantly fought.

Absent-mindedly, I took a few steps back, clearly caught off guard by his sudden compliment and, by the manner in which his eyebrows drew up, I could tell that he was confused and why wouldn't he be? I should have been used to compliments, I was the supposed prettiest girl in school - even though I never believed it - but when he called me pretty, I wanted to believe it. Why couldn't I believe it? What was wrong with me?

I murmured a nervous and quiet thanks in response, compliments always had a way to make me feel awkward which was weird considering the fact I received them more than once daily. Whether it was my hair or my outfit, every day I received a compliment. Romeo gently took hold of my hands and pulled me closer to him so that there was barely a distance between us. His eyes wandered over my face, scanning me. I did the same to him, he tried hard to keep a stoic expression but straight faces were never his thing. His lips turned up into a smile and even though we weren't playing a game, it felt as if I had won it and it was refreshing, and it was different and maybe I could have gotten used to it.

"Why do you like to paint so much?" I asked him to change the subject and, instead of the canvas being ahead of him, he moved it so I could be. Romeo told me that painting was one of his favourite things to do, after basketball of course. Basketball was his talent and painting was his hobby. Why couldn't both of them be a talent, I had thought? After all, he was amazing at almost everything he did. Except for maths, that was my thing. And then it hit me, that was it. Ares wasn't sporty, nor was he creative. We were both good at academic subjects rather than creative ones and maybe that's why we clashed. We were too similar. And sometimes, too much similarity can cause downfalls. In our case, it did.

"Basketball was a positive way for me to let out my frustrations with any issues I faced and then I began to actually enjoy it. Once I found out I was good enough to go pro, I never looked back." He explained and somehow our hands had jumped the distance between us and were folded together like a pair of angel wings. "But with painting, I do it when I feel inspired and lately I’ve been feeling really inspired." He looked directly at me and his thumb caressing mine caused my breathing to be erratic. I tried to focus on Romeo's voice to calm my breathing, I didn't want him to know he had an effect on me. "It's not something I would do for a living, more of a way to pass the time, a hobby I guess."

Romeo Sinclair constantly left me speechless. Then, he grabbed my stool and pulled it closer to him. A laugh of disbelief left my mouth at his actions and a soft smile rose to his face. Even though he didn't know, his cheeks were tinted a light pink, he looked cute when he blushed. After talking mindlessly for about thirty minutes, Romeo declared that he had a question to ask. Quite dramatically, he walked over to the teacher’s desk and plucked a yellow flower from the vase that was placed on it and then he walked over to me, a confident smile plastered on his face. I loved it when he smiled, I wanted to be the reason as to why he smiles.

"Will you go on a date with me?" he asked and I was surprised. I knew my shock was visible on my face because his confident demeanour faltered slightly and almost immediately, I felt bad. Of course, I had wanted to go on a date with him, I have for a while but I didn't know he felt the same. Understandably, I was shocked. But that didn't change my decision.

"Yes," I answered and soon after a broad grin broke out on his gorgeous face as he rushed over to where I was sitting and picked me up so he could hug me, my legs subconsciously wrapped around his torso tightly. He was happy and that made me happier.

It seemed that's what I did best. Make others happy in hopes that one day I would be too. And maybe I would but for now, I was content; my weight was slowly decreasing and I was going to go on a date with a guy I had been crushing on.

My life had never been better or so I thought.