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Hello You Beautiful Thing

The soft sound of her breathing filled her ears as a world in the secret section of her mind slowly spilled out on the page in front of her with every stroke of her pencil, not knowing what the picture would be at the end.

It was strange, in a relaxing sort of way, how her art made the outside world disappear just for a moment. It was like meditation but she came out of it with piece of art. Whether or not the art was good after she settled back into reality was a completely different story.

A sense of peace washed over her as she continued to draw the lines and contours of a face she had yet to identify. She ran her tongue over the inside of her teeth as she rubbed her finger gently over a line, smudging it, bringing all the pieces together bit by bit.

Her tongue clicked when there was a distant knocking at the door, the outside slamming back into her. She blinked and looked to the direction of the sound with a slightly dazed stare when another round of knocks filled the room.

"Raven?" She heard a slowly growing familiar voice say, and she rolled her eyes.

Of course, it would be him at the door.

"What?" She shouted at the door, not moving from her position on the couch.

She heard the low rumbles of his laughter. "Is that any proper way to greet someone? I have a gift for you."

She pressed her lips doubtingly as she picked her lukewarm mug up from the coffee table and took a sip. "Well, you can leave it at the door. I'll get it later."

"Oh, Little Bird, must you injure me so?" She could practically hear his lopsided smile as his words dripped with feign hurt. "Come on, I came all this way from my apartment just to see you."

She tapped her finger on her mug in thought, staring at the door, a slow smile tugging at her lips. While her art and Jason both made her forget the outside world, her art made her feel peace but he made her smile.

"Come on, Little Bird," he called again. "What's it going to be?"

"Are you wearing clothes?" It was a valid question. She just didn't know what answer she wanted.

Another chuckle from the other side of the door. "I guess you're gonna have to come to the door to find out, Little Bird."

Shaking her head with another roll of her eyes, she put her mug down and closing her sketchbook without a glance. She stood up and put her sketchbook away, remembering that he was quite curious and would probably steal another peek at her book, before heading over to the door and unlocking it.

She pulled the door open to meet his teasing stare and swoon-worthy smirk. Her eyes dropped down to the rest of him. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and arched a brow at him as she took his form in.

"So you do own pants," again, she couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Her eyes moved up to his torso, lingering on his hardened set of chest and abs. "But not a shirt."

"I own a shirt."

"Oh, do you mean your two sizes too small work shirt?" She raised her brow and opening her door further. "Cause that doesn't count."

He chuckled again as he strolled past her and walked into her apartment. "It does count, and you and I both know you enjoy seeing me shirtless so much more anyway."

She rolled her eyes at his ego, shutting the door behind him. "Could you be any more narcissistic?"

"It's possible, yes," he grinned, making his way to the kitchen. "Should I try?"

"No," she snorted, heading back over to her couch and picking up her mug. "My apartment is not big enough to handle the enormity that is your ego."

He laughed at her, cracking open her fridge and looking inside. She heard him give a low whistle. "You certainly eat out a lot."

She blushed, feeling a bit embarrassed about her cooking skills, or rather, lack there of. She pulled her knees up to her chest and took another sip of her tea. "Is that a crime?"

"No," he shrugged with a shoulder. "I'm just curious. Honestly, do you eat anything that doesn't come in a box, Little Bird?"

"Yes… I eat… Apples. They don't come in a box."

He lift his head and looked back at her. "Apples?"

"Yes."

"Really? That's your answer? Apples?"

"I eat yogurt sometimes?" She made a face at him, putting the drink aside and pushing her hair back. "What did I say about rummaging through my stuff?"

"I'm not rummaging," he defended, pulling out a beer and closing the door, finally. "I'm hanging out with you."

"By going through my things?" Her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed together. Thank goodness, she thought of hiding her sketchbook before he came in. The man looked through everything he could get his hands on.

"Not necessarily," he said, looking through her drawers for a bottle opener. "But isn't this what people do when they like each other? Come over to the other's house, go through their things, eat their food… Yada, yada."

Her heart fluttered at the word 'like' and she tried desperately to hide her blush. Like? Like? What did he mean by the word 'like?' And more importantly, what did she want him to mean by it? She fidgeted in her seat and pushed her hair behind her ear, licking her lips and trying to keep her heart rate down.

"Funny, I don't remember saying that I liked you," she reached for her tea again and took another sip, her eyes watching him curiously as he moved about her apartment.

Jason was like a strange and exotic animal to her. Observing and exploring everything around him, his head practically on a swivel. He was unpredictable, possibly dangerous to her health but was positively gorgeous and so wildly intriguing that staying away felt like a crime against herself. And all she wanted to do was study him.

He laughed, finding the drawer and picking out a bottle opener. "See? That's why I like you. You're funny. You make me laugh."

"I'm glad I amuse you," she replied in a deadpan voice dripping with sarcasm, watching him as he came closer to sit with her. Pulling her legs closer to her chest, she clutched her mug and raised her brow. "That doesn't mean that I like you."

He hummed in amusement, taking a swig from his beer. "You and I both know you like me."

"How presumptuous of you."

"You ditched your friends to talk to me-"

"I'd rather not have multiple male genitalia, plastic or otherwise, in my face-"

"Oh, so you're not into orgies, then? Good to know," he commented with another quick swig and a smug grin.

She furrowed her brow disapprovingly and nudged his side with her foot, coaxing another laugh to spill from those dizzying lips of his. "Honestly, do you have to be so crass?"

"You put up with me," he pointed out. "Another sign that you like me."

She gaped, opening and closing her mouth like a guppy fish while shifting through the maze of her mind around for the correct response to such an accusation. "I-I… I've never invited you over here."

"And yet, twice now you have opened your door for me. Once, while I was naked," he grinned, his hand coming around the back of the couch and spreading out as if he owned the place.

"That was different," she fought with a red hot blush, remembering the various contours of his body with very vivid detail. She tried not to let her eyes drift down to his shirtless body to confirm whether she had memorized them or not.. "You were naked and asking for me and scaring my neighbors-"

"Our neighbors," he chimed, cockily, and she briefly thought about wiping that grin off.

"Our-" she stopped short, feeling the short end of her temper. She licked her lips and pushed the nest of her hair back in frustration. "Whatever. Didn't you say you had a gift for me?"

He chortled again at the sudden change of topic, taking another swig of his beer and nodding. "I did."

"Well?" She huffed, impatiently, wishing his teasing stare and mocking lips would go back to his apartment where they belonged.

But he only laughed more before clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Tsk, tsk, tsk… Demanding and testy Little Bird, aren't you?"

"Do you have a gift or not?" She said, bluntly with a straight laced no nonsense expression.

"Here. A thank you for helping me out the other day," He chuckled, reaching into his jean pocket and pulling out what looked to be a carved wooden block in the shape of… She didn't actually know what.

She reached out for it, tenderly, not entirely sure what to do with it. Was it a dog? Or a rabbit?

"Oh!" She forced out, trying to to look confused. "It's a…"

"You're holding it upside down."

"Ah," she flipped it over. What the fuck, was it a bear? "Yes, I see it now!" Liar, you big liar.

"You still have no idea what it is, do you?" He shook his head, a bit of disappointment creeping into his eyes.

She tried to force herself to lie, to just make a guess. Anything would do. At least, she would be seeing something! And who knows, on the off chance, she could get it right! But that's not what came out of her mouth.

"Sorry…" she cringed, hating that disappointed look in his eyes. It didn't suit him. Not one bit.

"It's a bird," he answered for her, gesturing to the object. "See the wings."

"Oh," she said simply, tilting her head at it. It was hard to make it out, but it was there. "Oh! I can see that now. Thank you."

He snorted a little before taking another sip of his beer. "Yeah, my wittlings are shit but my furniture work is much better."

Her brows raised in interest. "You make furniture?"

"Yeah, I got a few pieces in my apartment," he gave a nonchalant one shoulder shrug before looking back over at hed, his lips curling up on one edge. "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

"Is that what people do when they like each other? Show off their furniture?" She replied playfully, the ends of her lips twitching into a barely there smile.

His signature smirk pulled on his lips as another low rumble of laughs worked their way past his throat and into the air, sending a strange but warm feeling down her spine. He licked his lips and brought the bottle to his lips again, taking another swig.

"I knew you liked me."

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