The Dorm Guard 31 Chapter Thirty-One: Busts, Love, And Lemon Drops

Bust: a sculpture of a person's head, shoulders, and chest.

*

"Hold still!" Alexis snapped, squis.h.i.+ng my face in her hands.

I sat on a tall stool in Alexis' bedroom, her hands lathered in clay from the mould she was shaping on the table in front of her.

I was confused at first when Alexis asked for my help with something, more so that she had a bedroom in the dorm. I knew she had to have one somewhere, but it was one of many locked doors in the large house. Like all the other dorm bedrooms, Alexis had a double bed, the same school issued desk as mine, however her wooden desk was covered in marks and splashed of colour, and a cupboard for clothes, which hung ajar allowing me to see her various colourful clothes, shoes, and art equipment placed on the ground. Aside from this, our rooms couldn't be more different.

While mine had bright yellow wallpaper, Alexis' was a light pink with diamond patterns in neat rows. The walls were covered in artworks, many hung on an angle either to deliberately annoy most people or because Alexis hadn't yet noticed they were crooked. Lining the walls were empty canvases of varying sizes and an easel sitting by the only window in the room. There wasn't any free s.p.a.ce against the walls. They were either occupied by wooden side tables holding tubes of paint or bottles sitting on newspapers on the ground. The room smelled like a nauseating mix of paint, chemicals and paper, making my nose hairs itch and my eyes water at first. She had opened the window to let some fresh air in but with a clump of wet clay both on my face and sitting on a table less than a meter away from me, that overwhelmed my senses and I couldn't appreciate the gesture.

She pinched my cheeks. "Oww!" I pulled my face from her hands and rubbed where it stung.

"Stop moving; otherwise it'll look like you're trying not to c.r.a.p yourself," Alexis joked as she turned back to the clay.

"Why did you ask me to be your subject?" I asked stretching my jaw.

"I need the practice, and everyone else gets too grossed out by the clay for me to touch their face for reference," she explained, running her fingers over what I thought was my nose.

My face felt dry from the patches of mud started to crack on my skin, I attempted to rub it off only for it to stick to my hands. "So, this isn't for anything?" I complained.

Alexis laughed, placing a freshly clayed hand on my chin, "Afraid not, stud." She pressed her thumb against the bone in my chin, maintaining the pressure to feel the cleft and any abnormalities in my jawline. While one hand checked, the other moulded. "Besides, you've got a nice face," she told me, "Gives me an excuse to touch it." She good-humouredly squeezed my cheeks together.

"You've never needed an excuse before," I teased.

She clicked her tongue, "Cheeky." The way she purred that made me smile. My facial change caught her attention, swivelling in her chair to hold my face in my grin.

"You have a nice smile, Landon," she complimented again, shuffling closer as her thumbs gently brushed my perked cheeks, "Times like this I wish I could see it properly." I relaxed my smile and leaned into one of her hands, enjoying her soft touch and just looking at her. She tilted her head, noting the change, but stayed silent.

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears again, almost feel my blood pumping through my veins as that nervous feeling I had felt at Karaoke Chaos returned. Her fingertips were cool to the touch, and she was leaning so close to me I could smell the lemon-drops she was sucking on during this art project.

Unprovoked, Alexis's cheeks reddened slightly as she leaned back and cleared her throat. When her hands retreated, I almost objected but bit my tongue. "Do you have any art shows coming up or anything?" I recalled the exhibition she had made an installation for at the end of the term a week ago. "How'd you go with that?"

Alexis shrugged, "They send the results to the school, not to me." She pushed what I believed to be my cheeks bones up on the bust. Satisfied with the general shape, she plucked one of the wired tools off her side table and started slicing away at the cheek, changing the texture with each slice. "In the meantime, I got emailed another show they want me to partic.i.p.ate in," she informed.

I considered her words. "You read emails?"

She dropped her arms, smirking at my questions. "I have a programme on my laptop that reads them for me," she informed dropping the tool to place her hand in a gla.s.s bowl on the floor full of lemon, strawberry and lime drops. They crinkled loudly as she picked up a handful, pressing one at a time to her nose until she found a yellow one, dropping the rest in the bowl. She missed as some clattered around the boule. "I hate lime."

"I think everyone hates green in general." I stared at the colours on the ground, reaching down to eat a strawberry flavoured one.

"I like green. I once met a delightful old man who was green," Alexis unwrapped the lolly and placed it in her mouth, "Very refres.h.i.+ng colour at times, and a lovely smell."

I blinked, "What does green smell like?"

She considered my questions for a moment, tossing her hair over her shoulders as she rolled the lemon-drop in her cheeks. "Fresh," she started, "and light. A crisp but sharp aroma. Maybe cut gra.s.s, young stems, conifer trees, the floral lily of the valley. Absinthe and citrus fruits like bergamot, clementine, and lime." As she spoke, I could almost smell the green, the moment pa.s.sing when the sweet sting of strawberry tingled on my tongue.

"What's that one's theme then?" I asked, looking at her desk to see her laptop; it was a brick of technology.

"'The Unconditional.'" Alexis crunched down on the drop, chewing it as she ran her fingers over what she had done, and picking up a different tool with a sharp point. She used it to make a smooth eye-socket shapes curve. "I'm under the impression that it's about what we emote as human beings, joy, devastation, love, hatred exedra." She pinched at the clay she had just adjusted with her utensil.

"Got any ideas?" I asked.

She paused, visibly biting the inside of her cheek as she said, "Yeah, I got one." Alexis replaced her instrument on the tray and held my face with one of her hands against, this time focusing on my eyes and brows.

"You gonna tell me?" I pried, raising a brow from her fingers.

She scoffed, physically pus.h.i.+ng my brow back down. "When the focus is emotive I find that what I initially feel drawn to works better than overthinking matters of the human mind," she stated.

I chuckled, "That's all you do," I said, "You're like the Master of Philosophy and Existentialism." She pinched at the hair on my brow, making me yelp as she returned to the bust. I apologised as I aided my eyebrow and asked nicely what she was thinking of doing.

She bit down on her lip. "Love," she stated straightening her back and sighing.

There was a saltiness to that word as she crossed her arms, arching her back until her face looked at the ceiling.

"What're you thinking for it?" I asked.

She shrugged, "Not too sure yet." She faced me, "What would you do? If it's any good, I'll plagiarise it."

I laughed, but upon seriously considering I was at a loss. Love to me was a wide net of possibilities. I had loved a lot of people in my life. My Mother, my Father, my sisters were all important to me. I had loved the Grandmother I had never met, only ever visited the gravestone in Europe every few months when I was eight. I think I liked a girl I met, Claire Dame, when I was fourteen, or perhaps was just devastated when we had to part ways. I know I loved common things like soccer and my cycling, and silly stuff like lemon-drops and Lucky-Cats from j.a.pan. Perhaps it meant my heart was big, or my mind was too naïve regarding everyone or anything I liked, or maybe I based what I loved on how I felt once I had lost it.

My cycling and physical ability came to mind. Above everything I've ever felt in my life, regarding my family, past romance, or things I held to my heart, the strongest feeling I had ever felt was when I questioned my self-worth after I got diagnosed with a heart problem. The pain of realising I couldn't cycle, couldn't maintain my physique, my strength, everything I held to some sort of worth about myself, was stronger then any positive feelings I had towards people. The hatred I felt towards how weak I became, and how disappointed I was in myself for not being stronger came from the pedestal I held myself at before it happened. Knowing my life may just end, and there was nothing I could do to prevent it or control it made me furious.

All those feelings once stemmed from a place of love but devolved into a position of self-loathing.

In the end, all I could manage to phrase it as was, "I feel like love on its own doesn't exist, or at least not in the long-term." Alexis' face turned serious upon my flat tone as she turned to me with her full attention, waiting for me to continue. And I felt remarkably comfortable opening up to her about it. "It's something that is always followed by something else. Something equal to or greater than the love you initially felt for a person or a thing. Betrayal, sadness, sickness, hatred. Something always replaces or outs.h.i.+nes love in the end."

Alexis considered my words, tapping the sides of her face with her fingertips as she muttered, "Interesting." She had been leaning forwards during my words but straightened as she countered. "But do you care in the there and then of love?"

I was confused. "What?"

"Does what will happen after love stop you from pursuing it?" she wondered aloud, I could hear that absentness form in her voice as her mind went into its fascinating realm of deep thought, partially no longer speaking to me. "People always fear what could happen, which stops them from letting anything happen in the first place. But that doesn't stop people from going after what they love, because at the moment you don't care, right?" She leaned on her knees again, fitting her chin in her hand as an idea forming behind those eyes as she continued with her thoughts. "You kiss the girl, you climb that mountain, you get in shape, you let other people see what's important to you, what you create, what you hate, all because at the moment it appears worth it." She fell into a long silence for a moment, her tongue occasionally licking her lips, her blind eyes darting around as if she could see something I just couldn't.

I rested my chin on my hand and took in her charming demeanour while I could enjoy it, grinning like an idiot until she got out of her deep dive and apologised for the existential route we had both gone down. Despite her apology, she continued, "Thinking factually, love is considered a human construct. We're social beings who desire to not feel alone. Some people spend their lives searching for love, but never finding it, or thinking they have found it and feeling nothing when they've lost it." Alexis' voice was laced with uncertain tragedy, "Does that mean you don't believe in love?"

"I believe in love," I said without hesitation, "I feel that it is what makes the potential end so upsetting. That it can be worked on, that you can make it stronger, give the illusion that you can't live without someone or something. You loved someone so much that when they leave, it completely incapacitates you because it came from a place of ultimate vulnerability. Complete love."

"You do believe in long-term love then?" Alexis asked.

I got caught mixing my opinions on love. I sighed and admitted, "Maybe I don't know what love really was," I sighed through my nose, "Perhaps I just haven't experienced it to word it properly."

"Never?" Alexis shuffled closer to me, replacing her hands on my face and just holding it, not checking or feeling it out, just resting them. There was a sudden gleam in her eyes, something almost fragile and vulnerable as if she was looking at me, properly seeing me through the blue.

I wanted to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her. My mind raced with l.u.s.tful things I wanted to do with her, do to her, feel with her in an overwhelming wave of adoration stronger than any time it had happened before. I liked how creative she was, what she spoke about, the pa.s.sion she had in even the smallest of concepts. I liked how she looked, how her red hair occasionally had streaks of paint through it, how her eyes were deceptive, how she acted as if she wasn't blind.

I leaned forward, her hands slipping from my face, and kissed her. My sudden movement surprising Alexis as she released a grunt upon our touch. Her lips were soft against mine, the lingering flavour of lemon and strawberry pa.s.sing between us as she kissed me back, prolonging the small moment. Her hands ran up my neck to the back of my head, her fingers running through my hair as she pulled us closer. Our lips never leaving each other as her chair slid towards me. My hands wandered, one resting on her thigh while the other tightly held her hip.

Our kiss deepened, the tips of tongues dancing against each other when we parted our lips, but neither of us brave enough to push it further. Alexis' lips vibrated against mine when she moaned against me, s.h.i.+vering when my hand ran up her back to pull her closer. She parted her legs as I pulled her closer, my knees eventually running into the wood of her seat, the momentum having her almost rise to straddle me.

We both delayed pulling away from each other, but just barely when we finally did. I could feel her chest rise and fall with mine. Our foreheads rested against each other as we waited for the other to catch their breath, each casting our eyes down on one another.

The stinging sensation stayed on my lips, the strange sense of euphoria tingling my every nerve like a drug, and I longed to rekindle it when it started to fade.

I felt selfish for how much I wanted to kiss her again, but somehow, for some reason, we both let go of each other, Alexis closing her legs as she s.h.i.+fted her chair. She sucked in her lips, "That was… nice." There was a moment where she looked bashful, crossing everything from her legs to her arms as she tried not to smile. "That's one way to avoid my question, huh?" she tried to joke by added, "A little overdue in my opinion though."

I scoffed, "Overdue?"

"Please tell me you weren't that oblivious," Alexis laughed.

I widened my eyes, "To what?"

"Has no one ever flirted with you before?" she asked, her voice laced with playful accusation. "What about Karaoke Chaos? You were right there!"

"Hey, I got interrupted," I a.s.sured.

"We shared a bed together," Alexis added, gripping the edges of her seat to lean forwards.

"I was a gentleman," I defended.

"You were a pansy is what you were," Alexis jeered.

I laughed. "Okay, my manhood has been completely insulted, I'm gonna go," I said standing.

Alexis whined, "No, don't go. I'm sorry I insulted your man-pride."

It was amazing how much braver I got after the kiss, leaning forwards and placing a lingered one on her forehead, trailing them down the side of her face to her cheek as I whispered to her, "I'm going to go now, or we may just start something neither of us is ready for."

She made a silent laugh, she countered in an airy whisper, "You mean you aren't ready for."

I shrugged at her claim, keeping my various thoughts to myself as I joked, "Gentlemen s.h.i.+elds, engaged. Goodbye."

She caught my s.h.i.+rt as I went to leave and pulled me down to her level, aimlessly placing a quick kiss on my face; namely my nose.

With scrunched hands and my mind telling me to pursue this further, my over-developed sense of romance made me straighten, turn around, and leave Alexis' bedroom.

*

The water was cold on my face as I hung over the sink, needing the sting to numb the tingle on my lips and the thoughts buzzing around my mind. I sighed as I watched water drip off the tip of my nose. I looked at myself in the mirror, patches of clay still stained my skin while the cold of the liquid turned the rest pink. I wiped excess water from my face before continuing my splas.h.i.+ng and rubbing routine.

I heard the door open in the bathroom, "I won't be a minute," I called, momentarily blinded as I straightened. In the mirror I saw Robyn standing by the door, peering at me with a quizzical expression. I blinked when I saw her clothes, an elegant black dress and priceless looking jewels. Her hair was pinned up in an extravagant bun, and she had a full face of makeup.

I rubbed at my face, using my other hand to sign at her. "Why're you all dolled up?" I asked both signing and verbally.

Robyn's expression didn't falter as she placed her brown leather bag on the counter next to me, grabbing my shoulders to make me face her as she produced a pack of makeup wipes. "Boys are hopeless," she signed rubbing at specific parts of my face.

I smirked as she fiercely rubbed against my cheeks, my skin beginning to tickle. "You didn't answer my question," I said, "You going out?"

She read my lips and bit down on her bottom lip, pausing from my clean-up as she considered how to sign this. I had never thought of how expressive Robyn was. In a moment, her eyes gave away a gleam of excitement and worry, while little micro-expressions showed off panic and confusion. It was a very complex thing to witness from an otherwise expressively mute person.

She smiled though as she continued dabbing my face. "I have a date," she mouthed as she signed with her other hand.

I clicked my tongue and playfully teased her. "Little Robyn has a date," I cooed, pinching her cheeks like I had seen Ava do before. She started blus.h.i.+ng and covered her cheeks with her hands, trying and failing to hide her blush. I wondered if the giddy feeling in my chest was what girls experienced when they got excited about boys and dating, I certainly felt like one. "So, who's the lucky guy?" I pried, taking a fresh wipe and rubbing the remaining patches off my forehead.

In the reflection, I watched her sign some things to me. Her excitement made her hands whimsical and quick, her expressions s.h.i.+fting to a wide array of emotions that was entertaining to watch. I think she said, "Timothy Carlington. He asked me out on a group date." She mentioned something about where she was going, but I was too enveloped by her face and gestures to pay attention to her signs.

"Well good for you," I said making my own faces to get every sc.r.a.p of clay out of my pores, "You seem excited."

She tilted her head, she didn't understand what I said.

"Have fun," I announced both loudly and slowly.

She gave me a thumbs up before pulling some make-up out of her bag and hastily applying it, her lip-gloss turned her lips pink. Just when I managed to get the last of the clay, Robyn started signing something at me again. "Please don't tell Ava," she requested.

I raised an eyebrow, "Why not?" I countered.

She fiddled with some freed locks of hair, spinning them on her finger to make an elegant curl frame her face. "She doesn't like my new friends," she expressed with a sour face, "I may be hard of hearing, but I'm not dumb. I don't need her worrying about me over a simple date, she'll blow it way out of proportion."

I frowned, considering her words until I nodded. "Yeah. Sure, if it worries you."

Robyn had a sporadic quality that I had only just noticed: the expression in her eyes locked, eventually blanking out and returning to their natural absent look. Her previous expressive look had been obliterated. What worried me was that both seemed so natural to her, I couldn't tell what was really her.

"You're a good guy, Landon," she signed me, stepping forwards and pecking me on the cheek before exiting the bathroom.

My reflection showed me the lip gloss mark on my cheek. I hadn't had to witness one of these since my Aunt Julie attacked me with smooches at last year's Christmas get together. I leaned back over the sink again and splashed away at my face, vigorously scrubbing at my cheek until I got kicked out by Mia who needed to pee.