For Grace, who won Round two of my Hangman Competition.
Dean yelps when he feels something cold and wet slide over his arm. "What the-?"
He trails off, staring at the streak of canary paint against his dark skin. A smile tugs at his lips. "Thought you were supposed to be painting on the canvas," he chuckles, turning to his girlfriend.
Luna smiles at him, holding the paintbrush that is still saturated with the vivid yellow. "You seemed to be a better canvas," she says, extending the brush and tracing a fresh line of yellow along Dean's jaw. "The colors look much more lovely on you."
Dean considers for a moment before reaching forward, grabbing the brushing, and smearing a yellow dot over her nose. "Really? Because I think you definitely wear yellow better than I do."
With a laugh, Luna lunges, but Dean dodges, managing to add a streak of yellow to her blonde hair. "You've got to be faster than-"
He's interrupted as a tube of emerald paint explodes, coating the left side of his face in dark green splatters. Luna grins, waving her wand at a second tube, violet this time.
Grinning, Dean joins her game and draws her wand, summoning a tube of fuchsia that he empties on her. He watches in amusement as the vivid shade drips down her neck, staining her shirt.
…
The two lay on the ground, both slick with paint. Dean laughs, his marbled hand reaching for Luna. "Gonna be a hell of a mess to clean up," he says, lifting his head enough to see the splatters and smears of color along the wall, floor, and furniture.
"We could keep it," Luna suggests softly. "It gives it character."
Dean lays back down, grinning as the paint squishes beneath him. "You have a point," he says with a lazy yawn. "Mum said we should paint the house…"
"Sounds like a happy middle ground," Luna decides before rolling over on her side and resting her head on his chest.
