“Axel and I went shopping for you while you were asleep,” Gareth informed me.
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know what made you sick. In my experience, it could be anything, so I threw out all your food and bought new stuff.”
“Thank you.” I shoved another bite of biscuit in my mouth. Axel sat down next to Gareth and rubbed his back, kissing his temple.
“Okay, thanks so much for coming by, but I can’t take the two of you and your googly eyes.”
“Are you sure?” Gareth eyed me.
“I feel so much better. Thank you, guys, for coming over and taking care of us. I really do appreciate it,” I said sincerely.
“If you need anything, and I mean anything, you call, yeah?” Axel placed his hand on my forehead and nodded. “You’re much cooler. Achilles is back on the couch. He showered, and I think that was enough for him. Keep an eye on him, yeah?”
“I will.”
I closed the door behind Gareth and Axel, and went to my room. In the back of my closet was where I hid my stress relief. I looked over my shoulder cautiously as I removed my crayons and coloring books from a container in the back. I took them to the kitchen, stopping in the living room to make sure Achilles was still asleep and breathing normally. I sat down and opened the crayon box, checking them to make sure they were still sharp and didn’t need to be sharpened.
Holden and I, when we were kids, used to color all the time and I found that it relaxed me when things were stressful. It was a habit I kept to this day. I must have colored hundreds of books when he died, just hoping I’d somehow feel better. I grabbed my favorite one and opened the page to a smiling bear with honey. The stress ebbed away as I started with the crayon inside the lines and colored them in with even strokes.
“What are you doing?”
I almost jumped sky-high at Achilles’ voice behind me. I tried to cover up what I was doing, to no avail.
“Are you…coloring?” Achilles bent over me, staring at my coloring book.
“Yeah? What of it? I find it relaxing,” I defended.
“Relaxing, eh?” A small, sly smile formed on Achilles’ lips.
“Don’t judge me!” I pointed at him with my crayon.
“Fine, I won’t. Let me try it then.”
“No. You’ll probably color outside the lines and break my crayons.”
Achilles chuckled and sat down across from me. “I promise not to press down too hard, and I’ll stay inside the lines.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and held my crayons to my chest.
“Come on.” Achilles motioned to the coloring books. “Just give me one.”
“Fine. You can have Eeyore.”
“What if I want Pooh?”
I shot him a look and he grinned.
“Fine, Eeyore it is.”
“You look…better.” I let my eyes wander over his face.
“I feel better.” Achilles removed a blue crayon from the box and began outlining his character.
I watched in fascination as his big hands gently colored inside the lines, the way his fingers glided over the picture effortlessly.
“Harley?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if his bow was pink or red.”
“Oh, um, it’s pink. I think.” I bit my lip in concentration as I worked on my honey pot.
“That’s really good.” Achilles motioned to my picture. “What other books do you have?”
I pulled my stack off the chair and Achilles thumbed through them. He finished the one he’d started and scribbled his name at the bottom. I smiled and looked up at him.
“I do that, too.”
“Well, people should know who created this masterpiece.” Achilles lifted the picture and smiled.
“That’s really good. I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re this huge guy, it just seems weird.”
“You should get newer ones. I think they have some online.”
“I just pick them up at the store. I don’t really order stuff online, mostly because I’m not here enough to get it.”
“Well, I’m going to get you some new ones.”
“Why?”
“Because it is relaxing, and now I want to do it.”
I chuckled and Achilles smiled at me. Jesus, he had a great smile. I ducked my head and finished my character, scribbling my name at the bottom.
“What do you think? Is it fridge worthy?” I asked.
“I think it is.” Achilles stood and took my paper to the fridge. He placed magnets on the four corners and stepped back, admiring it. “Now this is art.”
My smile faded as I recalled my parents taking down my English paper from the fridge. I’d been so proud to get an “A” that I put it up, hoping they’d see it and tell me how proud they were of me. It ended up in Holden’s room on his “this stuff is awesome” corkboard. Then, Holden had made me a cake and we celebrated on the floor of his room.