I flopped down on the couch, drink in hand and turned on the TV. It had been all over the news today; my work. They say it is one of the most brutal things they had ever seen, but I disagree. It's art just in a medium people are not accustomed to yet. It did upset me a bit that they refer to my work, but never actually show it. That is one of the worst insults as an artist. But as long as he saw it, I don't care.

I heard the front door open and slam shut. Speak of the devil. I turned my head to look over the couch at my lover how had just walked.
"How was work?" I asked as he approached me and leaned on the back of the couch, putting his arms around me.
I heard him sigh. "You know the normal thing to do when someone comes home is greet them. Not just jump into a conversation. But then again, you're not normal are you?" he joked.
I chuckled. "It took you this long to figure that out?"
He stood up, letting out a laugh and walked around the couch to sit next to me. "I've always known. Just the first time I've actually said it."
"But really, how was work? You were called out early this morning," I pretended not to know the reason for that.

Kid took a deep breath before answering. "Yeah. They thought it would be in my best interest to help with this new case. I'm sure you've heard about it on the news all day."
"The "Painter"?" I asked. Yes, that was what they had decided to call me.
" That would be the one. Killed her and used her blood to paint a mural." He shook his head, " She was still only a child. Probably no older than the one's you teach."

If he was any body else, I would have pulled him close and regretted my actions, but Kid was different to most people. His emotions were locked somewhere far away and death, destruction and chaos have no effect on him. One would say that he was just used to it, and he was. It took me almost three years to learn as much as I do about his past and I still don't know everything. To my knowledge, his father was abusive and even killed his mother right in front of him when he was young. I'm unsure what became of his father - he always avoids it when I ask. After high school, he drifted, once again, I have no idea what he did. He then decided to become a cop, and here he is now.

Kid leaned over, unbuttoning his shirt slightly and rested his head on my shoulder. "And how was your day?"
A smile crept onto my face. "Pretty much the same as usual, save for one kid trying playing the saxophone like some jazz master. Lets just say Ms. Albarn next door wasn't too happy with my teaching methods."
"She hasn't liked you pretty much ever since you started working there, hasn't she?"
I nodded. "I think it's cause she was originally head of arts and music and then some no-name pops up and took it from her."
Kid laughed at that. "Don't lie. We all know it's cause she had thing for you before she learnt you were mine."
I chuckled. "I like my theory more."
"Of course you do."

A comfortable silence passed between us for the better part of an hour. Kid was the one to break it. "Soul?" his voice so soft I almost didn't hear him even with him face right next to mine. I hummed in response as he sat up. "You'll make sure that you're students and the kids at that school stay safe, won't you?"
I nodded, knowing full well that was a lie. "I'll do my best to make sure nothing happens to the students."
Kid nodded and stood up. "Thank you. I don't want anything bad to happen to people, kids no less. I'll be going to bed. Don't stay up too late. You've got school in the morning," he said with a laugh, leaving the room.

I sat all alone for a couple of moments, thinking things over. This would just not do. He did not say a word about my work. Does that mean that he did not like it? Maybe abstract art wasn't good enough for him. I sighed and finally stood up. It just means I'll have to try a lot harder next time. I have to make sure it's something he will love.

I have to...