A/N: Hey, lovelies~ Sorry it took so long for me to update. MY LAPTOP DELETED ALL MY HARD WORK SO I HAD TO TYPE IT ALL OVER AGAIN. Anyways, enjoy~

P. S. To the guests I can't respond to: Thank you!

Chapter Seven

This time I made sure not to paint late into the night. Instead I just keep that unclear picture of Lucas in my mind, doing my best to sharpen the image. I might not be paying much attention in class, but that's okay. I get the gist of it: AUG-beginning RNA code and UAA, UGA, UAG-end RNA code. There's some more parts to it, but I'll study later. Maybe. Probably not. I'll see.

After the professor dismisses the class, I practically sprint to my dorm; I just might explode from this fear of forgetting, which isn't the worst way to go, but it's not pleasant either.

But before I can even go into my room, I see a sea-foam green-eyed, tan Lucas sitting in front of my door. He texts on his phone, but when I get closer, he looks up and grins at me without me making any noise. Or maybe he heard my feet trampling across the floor as I ran over here. I say, "Hey, Huckleberry. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm done with my classes for today, so I figured I would come here to annoy you," Lucas answers with a smirk.

"You succeeded," I tease and sit next to him.

"I know. My very presence is appalling."

"I'm disgusted by just looking at you, Ranger Rick."

"You're right; I'm hideous, although," he says, then taps his chin, "I've been told I have an amazing ass."

I slap his arm. "I said that wasn't a compliment!" I grumble, though I'm smiling.

"But you have to agree it is," he says, getting up to show me his butt.

I kick it. "In your dreams, Cowboy. I will never say you have an amazing ass."

"You just did," Lucas says with a smirk and sits back down.

"Oh, shut up."

We lapse into silence, and I lean my head against my door. I close my eyes for a moment before I ask, "Seriously, why are you here?"

"I just thought we could hang out," he replies with a shrug.

"And do what?" I say, barely concealing my smile.

"Well, there's this café I really like close by campus."

"Retrogrand?" That's the black-and-white café I love so much.

"Yeah, they have great chocolate croissants and-"

"Black coffee?"

Lucas furrows his eyebrows. "Um, maybe? I don't know. It's possible, but-"

"I'm in."

Lucas seems surprised. "Really? Wow, okay. I didn't think you'd agree because this has nothing to do with our project."

"Are you kidding me? That's my other home. Plus, I'm making you pay as remuneration for making me babysit."

"Fair enough," he says and stands. He holds out his hand to me. "Shall we go?"

I take it. "Gladly."

. . .

When we arrive at Retrogrand, I glance at Lucas to make sure the black and white building doesn't deter my ability to see other colors. I can still see his sea-foam green eyes and tan skin, so I let out a relieved sigh. I hope I'm just being irrational, that I won't forget again, but if I did once, it can happen again, right? Someone, please tell me I'm wrong.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asks me.

"Huh? Yeah, why?"

"You're looking around frantically."

"Oh," I say, then clear my throat. "Yeah, just, uh trying to get my bearings."

"But you've been here before..."

"That doesn't mean I don't get confused sometimes."

Lucas shakes his head and mutters, "I'll never understand you."

I grin. "You don't have to."

When we walk into the café, I'm surprised to see the barista from the morning. She usually leaves when I do. I wonder if she has been here the whole time. I have a job, so I understand what it's like having a double shift. You start hating people because you have to smile at them like you're not about to collapse from exhaustion.

"Hey, Kelly," I greet her as I approach the white counter. "How are you?"

"Honestly?" she says. "I'm done with the world. I've been here since six, and my mouth hurts. You want the usual, Maya?"

"That'd be great. Thanks."

"No problem. Is this your date?" she asks, gesticulating at Lucas who rubs his neck awkwardly.

"No," I say at the same time Lucas says, "Yes." I raise my eyebrow at him. "I thought we agreed this is just payment for my services, Ranger Rick," I say.

He smirks. "You know I'm kidding, Shortstack."

"Then care to go out with a barista, Mr. Hunk?" Kelly says with a wink. I roll my eyes because I knew this was going to happen. You can't go anywhere with Lucas without expecting an encounter with a coquette.

"Actually, Mr. Hunk would just like a mocha from the barista."

Kelly laughs. "It was worth a shot. That'll be six ninety-nine."

Lucas takes out his wallet and hands Kelly the money, and she says to me, "You be good to Mr. Hunk now, okay, Maya? He's a keeper."

"We're not dating," I say flatly.

"He paid for your coffee, and I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Just get our drinks, Kelly."

She raises both of her eyebrows and scoffs teasingly. "Sassy~. Good luck with this one, Mr. Hunk."

Lucas laughs. "Thanks," he says, and I put my hands up in exasperation, but he ignores me. "My name's Lucas, by the way."

"Sh!" Kelly says. "It's supposed to be a secret." She finally turns around to brew our coffees, and I look at my nails to avoid looking at Lucas. I swear I can feel his smirk burn my skin, and I really don't know what joke I would say without sounding a bit peeved. God, I need to repaint my nails; even I'm embarrassed by them, and I usually don't care.

"Here you go," Kelly says, handing the cups to Lucas and me.

"Thank you," Lucas says and puts a tip in the jar to which Kelly responds with a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Kelly," I say. "See you tomorrow."

"See you, Maya, and I hope I'll see you again, Mr. Hunk," she says with another wink. I roll my eyes. Girls are so weird. Yes, I realize I'm a girl, but I'm not typical.

I lead Lucas to the table I usually sit at and hop onto the tall, white chair to which he laughs at. "There are shorter chairs around, Shortstack," he says. "Why pick the one too high for you to reach?"

"Because I feel like King Kong here," I reply without inflection.

"Don't you mean like a toddler?"

"It's all about perception."

"And I think you look like an adorable child trying to be a grown-up."

"Let's not be condescending now, Ranger Rick."

Lucas smirks and puts his hands up. "Joking! But seriously, why do you seem like you're extremely happy to be in this spot?"

"What? I don't look happy."

"You're glowing, Maya."

I look out the window to find my reflection, but I can't see myself clearly. Do I really look that delighted over something so stupid?

"There's nothing wrong about being happy, Maya," he says softly.

No, Lucas. It's just wrong for me. I don't say that, and I don't feel like responding, so I just grab my mug and take a sip.

"You know, that would taste a whole lot better with some sugar," he says, getting up.

"I'm fine," I say, a lame attempt to stop him, to be honest. "Really, Huckleberry-"

"I'm getting the sugar," he says behind his back to direct his now distant voice to me.

I sigh. I could make a bigger effort to stop him, but I'm not going to lie: I like this attention. It makes me feel special, like I'm worth it. I hide my smile by drinking more of my coffee, although I don't think any one is watching anyway. I look out the window again, this time to watch the crowd outside. The thing that catches my attention is how many single people there are. Of course, they could have a lover at home or at work or wherever, but I only know what I see. Right when I count the first couple to pass by, Lucas sits back in front of me. I turn back to face him.

"See this?" he asks, waving the sugar packet in front of me. "This is to sweeten your coffee." He opens the packet and pours the content into my drink. "Then," he says slowly, grabbing the spoon next to his cup, "you stir."

I roll my eyes at the way he treats me like a child. It's not like I never knew of the existence of sugar; it was just a choice not to use it. I always assumed sweet tastes would make me sick, but there's no going back now. Lucas gestures toward the cup, and I touch it with my eyebrows raised. He nods in encouragement, so I scrunch my face up in anticipated disgust, but when I take a sip, I find myself strangely calmer, and it doesn't taste bad. In fact, it's kind of good. I take another sip to make sure it isn't my imagination to find that it really isn't.

I look up at Lucas who appears smug. "Whatever," I say, anticipating what he is about to say.

He chuckles. "It's not bad to try new things, you know."

"I know. I just like to play it safe."

Lucas raises his eyebrows in mock shock. "What? The Maya Hart 'plays it safe'? I never would have thought that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, referring to his tone.

"I know you, Maya. Whether you believe it or not."

I don't. You can tell me it's because I don't want him to, but I don't care who knows I'm messed up. I just don't believe him because I don't care to show him-or anyone for that matter. I want to test him, want to see if he truly understands me, but I'm not willing to show the depth of my instability.

I look down at my coffee, and it takes me a moment to figure out that something is different, something is weird: black coffee is not black. What the actual fuck.

"Well," I mumble, "my vision is completely abnormal now."

"Why do you say that?" Lucas asks, not freaking concerned at all.

I bring my cup close to his face. "What color is my coffee, Sundance?"

"It's a dark, dark brown."

Wait, what? That's exactly what I see. That doesn't make sense. "Then why is it called black coffee?"

"Because it's too long to say 'dark, dark brown'? I don't know," Lucas says, laughing. "Why are you asking this now anyway? Didn't this occur to you before?"

"Um, no."

"Why not?"

"Because I've never noticed."

He seems genuinely surprised by this. "But you're an artist" is all he manages to say.

I sigh, but I don't reply. I don't want to explain my issue. It's not normal; I'm not normal, and I don't want to ruin the relationship I have with Lucas. It's been so long since I've been relatively comfortable, so I would like to keep this.

"What's wrong, Maya?" he asks, placing his hand on mine.

I stiffen from his touch, but he doesn't move his hand away, keeping his gaze on me. "I won't judge you, Maya," he presses. "You know I won't judge you."

It takes me a while to respond. "Y-you can't guarantee that, Lucas," I stutter.

He squeezes my hand, causing me to squirm. Not only am I uncomfortable with physical touch, I also feel guilty because Lucas probably feels obligated to hold my hand even if it is clammy and gross. He says, "Trust me" as if that is the easiest thing in the world to do. I can't trust; I refuse to trust. I only get hurt in the end, and I deserve it, but I just want to choose my pain. But the way he looks at me, the sea-foam green holding my eyes, makes me sit back in my chair in defeat. I go with being blunt and quick: "I can't see color."

Lucas simply blinks. "You mean you're colorblind?"

"Well, yes and no."

He furrows his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"I can't see any hue. I can only notice tinges."

"Qué?"

I roll my eyes. "No puedo ver los colores, señor."

"Didn't you take French?"

"Yes, and? That doesn't mean I can't know Spanish."

Lucas shakes his head to get back onto the topic. "How can you not see color?"

"I don't know," I say with obvious pained bewilderment.

"Did you go see a doctor?"

I fidget in my seat and avoid all eye contact possible. It probably would have been smart to go to the doctor's to understand what's wrong with me, but frankly, I'm terrified to know an exact answer.

"No," I say.

"No? he says incredulously. "You really should."

"But I'm getting better!" I exclaim. I receive a few curious glances, so I lower my voice. "I can see the color of this coffee, and your eyes, and your skin..." I look down at his on top of mine and try to compose myself. I'm losing my mind over the idea that I can't even be just Maya to Lucas.

He uses his other hand to lift my chin gently so that I meet his eyes. "Let me help you then," he offers.

My eyes widen. "How?"

He purses his lips. "I'll be honest with you: I don't know yet," he admits, but then gives me a small smile. "But I'll figure it out."

I grin from utter happiness, and I don't care to hide it. Still, I tease him. "Can you handle two tasks at once, Hee Haw?"

"If it concerns you, most definitely." The determined set of his jaw throws me off, and I can't speak. How do I respond to that other than to show my appreciation, which I would prefer not to do because then he'll get arrogant, but I allow myself to say, "I hope you're right, Huckleberry. I really do."

. . .

This time I'm awake when Lucas drops me off at my dorm. I look up into his eyes, sea-foam green meeting my whatever-the-hell-color-they-are. We stand like that for an immeasurable amount of time until I realize I don't want him to go. So I do something I've never done before.

"Do you want to come in, Sundance?"

He gives me a smirk. "You finally admit my ass is amazing."

"Okay, one: I never said that, and two: we are not having sex."

Lucas cracks up at that to which I cross my arms and do my best to frown. But it's so hard not to smile around him. When he finally wipes his eyes, I ask, "Are you done now?"

He nodes, but he's still catching his breath. "Yeah."

"Good. Because for your information, Hee Haw, I just want some company. It's been awhile."

He nods more seriously this time and says, "Okay."

Then I walk in my room, and he follows, shutting the door.