Chapter Five:

Run With It

That green did not exist on the human plane.

Garnet eyes narrowed at the display in Sid's paint store. Every shade of green was in front of him, caps of the paint cans proudly showing where the fell in the infinite shades of the color green, but he couldn't see the right green.

The green that had been glaring at him from over a white surgical mask while the owner of those eyes laughed at him and challenged him to try and take the wall from her. The green that had made an appearance in a dream last night that Soul really would rather not think about while he was in public. Green eyes that had looked at him with a challenge, and desire, that had complimented the pink of her tongue-

Soul shook his head, and growled in his throat, really not wanting to drag the memories of the dream he'd had last night to the front of his mind. It had been a long fucking time since he'd woken up from a dream blushing and hard. He wasn't a damn teenager anymore, and he didn't like that he had been reduced to the mentality of a fifteen year old boy over a girl he had only met once. Not to mention that meeting hadn't actually resulted in anything other than a few exchanged insults and him having to run back home because he had given Wes a heart attack with how late he stayed out.

Next to him, Soul heard a throat clear, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Sid standing next to him. "Fuck, when did you get here?"

"You've been staring at the greens like they personally did something to you. What's up?"

"You don't have the right green." Soul muttered, eyes returning to the display in front of him. Sid only laughed.

"We don't have the right green? Kid, that is all the green right in front of you, okay? All of it."

"Obviously not, because I'm not seeing the green I need."

Sid furrowed his brow, and managed to look down at Soul from the half inch he had to stand on. Soul glared right back, and the paint shop owner only shook his head again. "Do you have a color reference for me?"

"…No." Soul's face heated, and he could almost feel the blush explode under his skin. Sid's massive grin threatened to split his face as he took Soul's expression into account.

"And why don't you have a color reference for me?"

"Shut up, it's not a big deal."

"Your face says otherwise."

"Shut. Up."

"You know, I think we stock the color your face is now, let me just go grab it-"

"No!" Soul shook his head and pointed at the display. "God, I just-green-I only need-"

"Okay, kid. I'll help you find your green." Sid placated, and looked up at the wall of green in front of them. "I will need some help though."

The tagger could only press the heels of his hands to his eyes. "I don't know how to even describe this color. Jade isn't dark enough, forest isn't right either. Hunter green is too rough, and I don't think I've ever actually seen this color on anything but her eyes-"

"Her eyes!? Who's eyes!?" Sid cried, his voice too loud, and Soul knew in that instant he was screwed. Sure enough, not three seconds later he could hear the rapid padding of Mira's bare feet as she rushed towards both of them.

"Who's eyes!?"

"Hey Mira."

"Boy, don't you 'Hey Mira' me, you answer my question."

"No one's eyes!" Soul growled at the two overly parental shop keeps that looked at him like he held the answer to nuclear fusion. "Okay? Slip of the tongue. I stuttered that's all." Sid and Mira looked at each other, communicating and entire conversation through one side eyed glance. Soul was viciously outnumbered between the overgrown color expert and the goddess of paint that were Sid and Mira Barett.

"No you didn't-"

"Mira please…"

"No, I want to know what girl's eyes are all up in your head so much, you can't even talk about it." Mira crossed her arms and challenged the albino artist in front of her to try and get out of this situation. It was rapidly becoming worse and worse for Soul.

"No girl, Mira. No girl, there never is a girl." Soul tried to argue, and Mira's eyes changed. The hard determination in the blue irises faded into understanding, and she shook her head, dreads following the movement perfectly.

"You met the one who's been covering your pieces, didn't you?" Soul couldn't meet her eyes and Mira nodded. "You have, what's her name?"

"I don't know."

"Oh come on boy-"

"I really don't know." Soul sighed, and rubbed his hand against his face. "I met her once, for about ten minutes a month ago, and I haven't seen her since."

"You met the Angel?" Sid asked, amusement on his face, and Soul grimaced.

"Yeah."

"And she's still buffing you?"

"…Yes."

"Wow, you must have really shown her."

"Shut up Sid." Soul growled, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "And, I don't see the color I need, sorry to have wasted your time."

"Awh, kid, look we'll help you find it."

"No, really. I don't see it up there." Soul smirked and shook his head. "I'll figure it out soon, don't worry. I'll be back."

"Wait, before you go, are you planning on buffing her back?" Mira asked, pulling her own mask back on before she went to continue her work with the paint.

"Yeah, probably, if she ever finishes."

"She did." Mira told him, and Soul froze, brows nearly meeting over his confused eyes.

"What?"

"It looked done to me this morning when I went on my jog."

"Shit! She fucking finished it!?" Soul's grin stayed on his face for only a few seconds before Mira had to jump up and smack him upside his head again, this time knocking the beanie to the ground. "Ow! Mira!"

"I don't care how excited you are, you do not swear in the presence of a lady!"

"I'm not excited." Soul grumbled in his defense, stooping down to pick up his hat from the floor.

"That dumb smile says otherwise."

"Yeah, thanks Sid." The artist growled, fixing his beanie back on top of his head. "I've been waiting for her to finish, I promised I wouldn't touch the wall until she did."

"Mmmhmm." Mira only lifted an eyebrow at him. "You be kind to her now, that's her work, and you need to respect it."

"Like she respected her art all over the top of mine?"

"Touché."

"Besides, I'm not a total dic-jerk. I know how to buff another artist with respect."

"Oh ho ho, so she's an artist now?" Sid smirked, leaning against the greens that still didn't fit Soul's mental picture of Angel's eyes. "Last we heard she was a 'no good crayon sympathizer'."

"…Yeah…I might have been a little hasty with that…"

"You think?" The color expert snorted, skillfully ignoring the crimson toned glare that was sent his way. "Alright, alright, tell you what. Bring her by, and I'll help you match the color. Covertly."

"You couldn't do covert if your life depended on it! And I don't know who she is! You two don't seem to grasp that." Soul sighed, and shook his head. "I seriously do need to go now, okay? I gotta go meet Wes."

"Alright, you tell that brother of yours we say hello, and tell him we expect you both for dinner soon."

"Yeah, yeah I'll tell him." Soul promised as he waved on his way out the door. He kept his walk back quick. If Angel had finished, he was fucking dying to see what had taken her so long.

Wes could wait; Soul had to fucking see what had taken her almost a month.

Trying very hard to keep himself from breaking into a sprint the rest of the way, Soul finally reached the alley that hid the wall in shadows, even during the day. Ignoring the sudden twitching his hands were plagued with, he made the familiar trek towards the wall, and once again, he felt his heart stop when he took in the finished piece.

Jesus, she was a master at manipulating lines to her will. Each white line stood out on the back drop of his old piece, ebbing and flowing to create the most detailed set of wings he'd ever seen in his life. The new piece stood out, and engulfed his old tag; giving the impression that it was caged within the wings that now dominated the souls he had painted. Underneath each white line, a gold paint that shined excessively highlighted the lines and gave the entire piece an ethereal feel, and it almost seemed to glow because of it. The sheer amount of detail and focus that she put into this amazed him still. Plus, the lines stretched upwards, curved, and returned to the rest in what looked like it had to have been a swift, fluid motion. Soul could almost feel how badly the muscles in her shoulder had to burn after even just an hour of the repetitive style. No wonder it had taken her a month to create this, it was fucking impressive.

Not to mention, the lines went high up on that wall, which means little Angel was at some point standing on a bucket at least, and that thought made him smile.

"You don't do anything halfway, do you Angel?" He shook his head as he stared at the wings on the wall. He couldn't believe it, couldn't believe the amount of sheer perfection on the wall. When he painted, he was everywhere, lines intersected, colors bled, nothing was perfect, but that's how he liked it. Soul liked the chaos that came with the freedom of being able to just draw on the wall, break the rules, and make a mess.

Angel's art was surgically perfect, and while he could absolutely respect the work she put into all of it, he did honestly wonder if she enjoyed this at all. He knew that not all artists took to creative chaos the way he did, and when he had caught her, she hadn't actually been in the process of drawing, but he wondered what her eyes were like when she was. What she looked like when she was dragging that marker over the bricks, and if she actually looked happy when she did so.

He'd seen a lot when she had glared at him with those fucking green eyes, but happiness wasn't in there.

Soul sighed before glancing down at his phone. He really did need to meet up with Wes now, but he'd come back later, start planning his rebuttal.

Before he left, he looked over at the mess of sticky notes and found the orange one on the top. She hadn't answered him since he'd swiped the sticky note she had done of Spike, and he was worried she might have called him out on it. Instead, there was only one sentence written there, in Angel's precise, elegant handwriting.

Go easy on it; I actually kind of liked this piece.

Soul smiled and reached for his backpack; only to remember he didn't fucking have it with him. Growling, he reached for his pockets, hoping to find a pen hidden there somewhere. Fuck, he didn't want to leave it-

Wait a fucking second.

Soul knelt down at the base of the wall, and picked up a marker. More likely, Angel's marker, if Soul really thought about it. He held it in his hand, and still couldn't see the appeal. Too much control. He shook it twice, and heard the paint move inside the plastic casing, so Angel just must have forgotten it. Oh well, at least he had a way to answer now.

He uncapped the marker, the utensil feeling absolutely wrong in his hands as he wrote back to Angel on a few of his old blue sticky notes, and arranged them over the orange one.

"Take it easy my ass," he muttered to himself as he turned to go back to his apartment. "She didn't take it easy over my last two fucking pieces, why should I take it easy over hers?! That ain't fair."

There was a dull ache that settled in the muscles of her arms that nearly made returning books to their proper place impossible.

Maka continued to place the books on the shelves that towered over her head, a frown gracing her face as she had to climb up a few of the shelves to get the books where they needed to go. As long as her boss didn't see her making the bookstore her own private jungle gym, she wouldn't be chewed out by the stern woman. No harm, no foul.

Slipping the last book in her stack home with its siblings, Maka dropped down from the shelves and groaned at the throbbing in her shoulders. Maybe a month of lines was pushing her body a bit too far; however, she felt her pride thrumming along with the pain in her shoulders. It had honestly been one of the best works of art she had ever done in her entire life. Each line had been something special, something completely perfect alone, but with the rest of them had created the amazing spread she had done on her wall. She had been completely focused on that wall for the last month, and now she wasn't really sure what she was supposed to focus on.

She was trying very, very hard not to focus on Eater's reaction to her piece would be.

Maka wasn't ignorant, she was aware of how much disrespect she had shown him by covering his piece, and she could only hope that he would give her work more respect than she had shown him.

She did actually care about that piece. A lot.

But…according to Eater, they were friends, and friends weren't dicks with other friend's art…right? Of course, to her knowledge…most friends weren't just friends over sticky notes on a brick wall. So…she wasn't really sure what would pass between Eater and her.

And it bothered her that it bothered her.

"Maka! I need you to shelve more books!" Her boss' voice brought her out of her mental deliberation of Eater's artistic integrity, and she walked back up towards the front desk where Ms. Yumi was standing with her arms crossed, stern look ever present on her face. The employee filled her arms with several different books, and started back towards the shelves. "And Maka?"

"Yes?"

"Use the ladder."

"You know I can't carry it." Maka pouted behind the volumes she held in her hand, and Ms. Yumi shook her head.

"You can't climb the shelves."

"…but I have to get these shelved…"

"And I don't need another lawsuit."

"In what little defense I can muster, you did bully Hiro until he cried."

Azusa Yumi glared at Maka over her glasses. "You can't prove that."

"And neither could he." Maka grinned, and shifted the books in her arms. "But I promise if I fall and crack my skull, I won't sue. But I can't hold a ladder and books at the same time."

With a deep sigh and a dismissive wave of her hand, Ms. Yumi sent Maka back to work. "Fine, do your little stunts, but do be careful."

"I'm always careful." Maka promised as she returned to the shelves and began climbing up one so she could place the book where it belonged. She found herself cursing her short stature and trying to ignore the fact that she knew Eater would absolutely love watching her struggle like this.

And there he was again, popping up in her thoughts. She didn't exactly enjoy the way Eater seemed to dominate a strong part of her thoughts, but at the same time, she couldn't exactly argue that it was a bad thing. The boy had said he was her friend, and she had over a month of correspondence stuck to her wall, and she was curious about him: he didn't act the way people were supposed to act.

He also stole two of her doodles off the wall, but she figured that was more of a compliment, and completely fair as she had stolen one of his sticky notes too.

She was also wondering how he would respond. He had covered her flowers with his tag, so she had deemed it fair to cover his tag with hers. He wouldn't just spray another tag on the wall would he? She knew Eater was decently wall famous around the part of town she ran off too so she could tag, and she knew his pieces were generally pretty dark, but impressive. Maka was actually incredibly excited to see what he would do back.

She only wished she could go check it out tonight, see if he had started anything.

However, she had plans. She was her father's date to the award's ceremony for the Gang Unit at DCPD for their outstanding work in lessening gang activity as shown in the lowering gang activity, such as graffiti and violence.

Maka enjoyed the irony of that fact.

She sniggered to herself as she climbed back up the shelves again, slipping books in their proper places, and dropping back down to repeat the process.

She'd make her way over to the wall tomorrow morning or night and see what Eater was up to. After all, Eater had no problem hovering over her while she worked; she found it fair to do the same to him.

Soul was actually caught in a contest between food and words.

A forkful of Thai was poised in front of him mouth, which wouldn't stop spewing words, and Wes was looking at him with the same overly amused look he'd had when Soul had woken up with is breakfast stuck to his face. "You sound less pissed about her covering you this time."

"No, still pissed." Soul promised as he snuck food into his mouth while it was distracted. "But fuck Wes, it took her a month and each line is perfect. Like, it's literal perfection. A little fucking crazy too, but whatever, don't ask me how she pulled that off, it seems almost impossible if I'm being honest." His words weren't stalled by chewing, and his speech seemed less aimed towards Wes, and more at himself. Wes picked at his own food himself, and stared at his little brother.

"I don't understand your description." Wes admitted. "You know I'm not go at art, and while I'm sure you're explaining this perfectly…to yourself…I'm afraid I'm just not quite grasping what you're trying to tell me."

Soul blinked at his brother for a second, before standing up, and bringing the box of take out with him. "Come on."

"Come on? Come on where?" Wes questioned, standing up nonetheless.

"I'll show you. Come on." Soul grinned as he started walking to the door, and Wes only sighed before following his brother out the door, and into the warm night of the Nevada summer. Soul managed to keep himself quiet on the walk over, only occasionally shoving food into his mouth while he led Wes to the wall that Angel had attempted to liberate from his hold.

"You know I don't want to know too much about this little hobby."

"This isn't even my piece, come on!" Soul snorted, dragging his brother farther down the alley. Wes obviously looked uncomfortable with the wall's placement, but he didn't bother lecturing his brother. It wasn't like Soul had listened the thousand other times Wes had tried to argue with him about the same thing, so he didn't bother addressing it now. He was content to just let Wes shoot him a bitchy look, and Soul laughed, and finally stopped in front of Angel's wings. "That's what I was trying to describe." He explained, and shoved more food in his mouth.

Wes stared at the wall in shock, and finally nodded his head. "Yeah, that is more than impressive right there."

"Right?"

"It took her a month?"

"Yup."

"Damn little brother, she's quite the match for you huh?"

"Eh, she's alright." Soul shrugged; face dusting over with red as he picked at his take out box. But when he looked at his brother again, he realized Wes wasn't looking at him, or the art anymore, but at the multicolored collage of sticky notes off to the side.

The blush fell from his face, along with most of his blood.

Wes eyed the sticky notes curiously, before sending the smuggest look Soul had ever seen on the music professor's face. His grin reminded Soul of the Cheshire Cat, and the look in his eyes would probably haunt Soul for years to come. "Fuck."

"Is this art too?"

"Wes…"

"Because I'd know your atrocious handwriting anywhere, little brother, and I see it all over these blue sticky notes."

"I can explain-"

"This handwriting," Wes pulled an orange sticky note from the wall. "Is a girl's handwriting. For sure. And they're all…"

"Stop reading them!"

"Flirty. They are all incredibly flirty." Wes concluded his analysis, stupid grin still plastered on his face. Soul glared down at his big brother, face redder than before.

"Shut up."

"It's Angel, isn't it. That's who wrote these!?" His brother smiled as he kept scanning the wall. "When did this start?"

"…After I met her?"

"You met her!? When did that happen!?"

"About a month ago…"

"And you haven't invited her over for dinner because?"

"Because you live there and we can't cook." Soul deadpanned, chomping down more takeout as he tried to will his heart to start beating again. Wes' face was anything but impressed, so Soul swallowed and tried again. "I only met her once, for about ten minutes." He threw his head in the direction of the wall. "That's how we've been communicating."

"Huh, well, isn't that adorable."

"Shut up Wes."

"No really, adorable." His brother's stupid smirk was back on his face. "You and your little girlfriend have the cutest dates huh?"

"Really? What are we, five?"

"I don't know, your face tells a different story."

"God you suck." Soul growled, and started to draw his brother out of the alley, Wes' laughter following them out.

"Are you really going to cover her back?" Wes asked him once his laughter had finally died down. Soul shrugged, and tossed his fork into his now empty take out box.

"I have to."

"Won't that, you know, cause some tension?"

"I think it'd almost be more disrespectful to not cover her at this point."

"You artists have the weirdest mating rituals."

"Seriously, shut up Wes."

After Soul slammed the door behind him, Wes turned towards his case with a smile.

His little brother had left, leaving him alone in the apartment while Soul had gone off to start his retaliation against his little Angel's work, and that gave Wes some time to play his violin. He hadn't had much time since he'd last put the grades in for school and with all the meetings he had been asked to attend in the last month, along with working on his Masters, he really didn't have the time he'd like to spend with his instrument, and as he drug the rosin across his bow, he felt the itch in his fingertips.

He really should make more time for this.

Dragging his bow across the strings, his fingers dance, and he realized he was starting to play Crystillize, and he smiled, letting the familiar song echo in his room, and take his cares away for a while.

At least, until he heard music join his.

Wes paused, and dropped his bow, trying to figure out where the music was coming from. Finally, his eyes landed on his laptop, and he realized he had a Skype call.

From his mother.

"God, give me strength." He muttered to himself, before playing his bow and violin on his bed, and sitting down at his desk. He accepted the call, and waited while the internet connected them. When it finally did, Wes was face to face with his mother's stomach, while she was leaning back in her chair, and gesturing at the screen to someone Wes couldn't see.

Celeste Evans was dressed in a plain t-shirt, and her snowy white hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She continued to yell at the person off screen while gesturing at the computer.

"Mother?"

She didn't respond.

"Mother, do you have me on mute?" Wes sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He continued to watch until his father's hand came on screen, and pressed a button, and he could suddenly hear his mother again.

"Wesley!"

"Hello mother." He smiled at her, and she smiled back, her blue eyes lighting up at her oldest son's face.

"How are you?! You look so thin, are you boys eating alright!?" His mother spoke of thin the way most others spoke of murder. Wes rolled his eyes sighed.

"Yes mother, we're both fine."

"And Soul? He's doing alright too?"

"Yeah, he's doing just fine. Got his grades back the other day, passed every class, he's doing just fine."

Celeste narrowed her eyes on camera, and scowled. "He never calls home."

"Do you expect him too? He hasn't always received such a welcoming vibe." Wes sighed, staring down at the keyboard. His mother's face fell, and she bit her lip. "He misses you though. Told me that the other day, he does miss you guys. He's just been really busy with work, and you know…stuff."

Wes watched as his mother looked up from the computer, listening to whatever his father was telling her. "Your father wants to know how the music's going for the both of you."

"Ah, I was just practicing before you called." Wes smiled. "And Soul's been doing well. I bring him to school with me and he plays there." Wes lied through his smile, and his mother accepted it without a second thought.

"Good, good. So, still single? Or have you finally found a girl and won't leave your poor mother to live out her old years without a grandchild to hold."

"And here I thought this could be a pleasant conversation."

"That is a pleasant conversation. You're a brilliant musician, a college professor, but you're single. Wesley, I need grandchildren or I will die a sad, unhappy woman and I will haunt you for the rest of your lonely, single life."

"Always a ray of sunshine mother."

"I do my best son."

"And no, I'm not seeing anyone right now." Wes sighed, and tried to ignore his mother's scalding look. "I've been busy mother. With life."

"What's the point of life if you don't have children in it!?"

"It's really no surprise you married young."

"Hush up." She ordered her son, and tilted her head. Wes almost had to do a double take; he'd seen his little brother give him that same look so many times. "What about Soul?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure Soul has a girlfriend." Wes smirked, and his mother's face nearly lit up the entirety of the screen she was so close to her computer.

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, he met this girl last month, Angel he calls her. They've been hanging out almost every night. I think he's really into her."

"OH MY GOD WHAT DOES SHE LOOK LIKE? IS SHE CUTE!? TALL?! OH MY GOD."

"I don't know! He hasn't brought her over yet. It's a shame really; I think he's embarrassed of me."

"That doesn't sound like your brother."

"True, but he just refuses to bring her over. Maybe you should tell him that family is important in a relationship too, and I can't wait to meet her."

"That's not a bad idea!" Celeste smiled wide, and Wes matched it, knowing Soul was going to hate him tomorrow.

Absolutely worth it.

"Alright mother, I need to practice some more, but I love you, and I'll talk to you soon."

"Good night sweetie! Tell your brother we love him!"

"I will. Don't forget to call him!"

Celeste waved to her son before the screen went blank and Wes chucked. Picking his violin back up again, he started to play, imagining the scene that would be his little brother's face tomorrow when his mother called.

Wes smiled as he restarted his song from earlier, and enjoyed the way the music echoed through his empty apartment. An apartment that would soon reek of spray paint once his little brother slunk back in at his ungodly hour and it would continue to smell like spray paint until he finished whatever he was working on.

Yeah, preemptive revenge.

Besides, Soul obviously liked that Angel girl, and getting his mother on his ass would just make him move a little faster.

Wes was a good big brother. His methods were just…unorthodox.

I know this is where my THANKS YOUS usually go, but I'm not on my normal computer and I don't have anymore time (already been hoarding this computer) but know that I LOVE ALL OF YOU AND I READ EVERY REVIEW, SEVERAL TIMES AND THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH. THANK YOU, REALLY. I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THE NEW CHAPTER!

THANK YOU!

LOVE YOU ALL!

-ERIS