❝EVERYTHING, really? Even the sleeping part with the Adrian? That’s something to rub in his face.❞ The dhampir girl asked in an amused tone, she was trying to stay serious, but it was impossible to resist upon this remark. Hell, Rose would throw out snappy remarks even on her dead bed - it wasn’t anything new.

Seeing a distress on her friend’s face, however, forced her to BEHAVE…for now. She leaned forward and placed a hand upon Sydney’s in reassuring matter. ❝First of all, BREATH, Sage.❞ There was warmness in Rose’s eyes as she offered Sydney a slight smile. ❝Secondly, just send everyone to hell and go be happy with Ivashkov if that is what you want, idk, you two can run off to the Bahamas or something. I am sure we can pull off some witness protection. And hell, someone will stand in our way, I’ll make some evil-creature-of-darkness laugh and scare them away, we can even throw some garlic at them–no wait, that was for vampires not humans? Eh, mundane superstitions get me confused every time.❞ Rose was obviously trying distract the distressed thoughts of Sydney.

❝  okay,  maybe  not  everything.  ❞  she  says,  a  small  smile  tugging  at  the  corners  of  her  lips.  it  was  the  opposite  of  stressful  to  be  with  adrian.  he  was  like,  sydney  sage  kryptonite.  so,  adrian  was  a  part  of  her  life  that  was  so  far  from  stressful,  and  she  loved  that.  she  couldn't  help  but  love  adrian,  even  if  her  family  would  never  be  able  to  understand  it.  she  was  starting  to  think  that  she  would  be  okay  with  that.  

Another toss, splash, buzz, cloth–rinse and repeat. The texts took priority over everything else, strangely enough. Somehow the Moroi found himself fascinated with a human, of all people, and completely setting aside his not-so-masterpiece for her messages. Life was truly strange.

To: [Sagenator]: Marigold it is. JK

To: [Sagenator]: Hell yeah I am, Sage. Jackson Pollock. Look him up in your Wikipedia of a dome. I’m sure you know him.

To: [Sagenator]: So what are you waiting for, an invitation? Come dispose of this wicked Marigold so I can empty the Honey Orange properly!

To: [Sagenator]: Rude btw. Paint War. You just drew the line in the proverbial canvas. Bring it.

He set his phone down and continuously glanced at it as he ‘painted’ some more, aggressive slings of vibrant hues splashing down on his sunset canvas. He didn’t know if Sydney would really show, but damn was she missing out if she chose not to.

[ sms ⇢ adrian ]: on my way.  [ sms ⇢ adrian ]: i’m gonna toss that marigold out a window.  [ sms ⇢ adrian ]: consider it brought. paint war it is. 

 was  she  really  considering  this?  going  over  to  adrian's  place  to  throw  paint  around?  who  was  she  becoming?  she'd  never  have  thought  about  doing  something  like  that  before.  not  that  it  was  a  crazy  or  stupid  thing  to  do,  but  throwing  paint?  it  certainly  wasn't  something  she  thought  the  alchemists  would  approve  of,  and  doing  it  with  a  moroi?  they'd  lock  her  up  and  throw  away  the  key  for  sure.  forget  re-education,  they'd  put  her  away  for  good.  

Adrian was going for a Pollock aesthetic that night, so he kept his canvas safely tucked in an area covered with paper and borderline hazmat clean up. Even the sloppy style of clothing in which he wore for the specific purpose of getting messy suited him despite his normally pristine attire. Some flecks of paint were in his hair, though he wouldn’t have noticed as he was utterly consumed by his art.

That is, until his phone buzzed in his pocket. He set his brush aside and wiped his hands on a spare cloth  that he tossed on his shoulder before retrieving his phone. It was none other than Sydney, the only name that could elicit such a smile from the Moroi. He immediately set to responding, elaborating on the particular dilemma that was plaguing his mind.

To: [Sagenator]: So I’m therapeutically throwing paint around, right?

To: [Sagenator]: I was thinking about you and sunsets. Brilliant golden rays turning to…well, that’s the problem.

To: [Sagenator]: I’m torn between honey orange and marigold. Thoughts?

@missquickstudy​

[ sms ⇢ adrian ]: honey orange sounds prettier than marigold does.  [ sms ⇢ adrian ]: but are you actually throwing paint or is that you being dramatic? [ sms ⇢ adrian ]: if you’re actually throwing paint, i wanna come over. 

sydney   was   busy   with   trashy   tabloid   magazines,   and   apparently   texting   adrian.   the   latter   was   something   that   felt   so   new   to   her,   even   though   she'd   had   his   number   since   she   had   gotten   to   palm   springs.   she   couldn't   even   remember   how   it'd   started.   how   she'd   started   texting   him   or   why   they'd   started   texting,   but   here   they   were,   texting.  

she   paused   the   podcast   she   was   listening   to   —   something   about   how   someone   believes   some   hollywood   icon's   death   was   caused   by   vampires   or   something.   not   the   kind   of   thing   that   actually   happened.   and   she   was   talking   to   adrian   ivashkov.   oddly,   the   kind   of   thing   that   actually   did   happen.   she   was   even   holding   her   phone   in   her   hand,   waiting   for   it   to   go   off   so   she   could   text   him   back.   what   was   with   her   tonight?

 ❝  everything  about  this  situation  is  stressful.  ❞  she  says,  shrugging  her  shoulders.  it  was  strange,  the  way  she  felt  like  she  could  talk  to  rose.  she'd  been  raised  and  conditioned  to  think  that  vampires  were  evil  and  not  to  be  trusted.  but  rose...  rose  was  one  of  her  best  friends,  and  she  was  sorely  lacking  in  that  department,  so  it  was  good  to  have  her.  

 sydney  shouldn't  have  been  this  happy  to  see  a  vampire.  even  if  dimitri  was  a  dhampir.  he  was  still  half-vampire,  and  that  was  more  vampire  than  she  had  been  raised  to  be  comfortable  with.  it  was  a  unique  experience,  getting  know  these  vampires  and  unlearning  the  prejudices  that  the  alchemists  had  set  up  in  her.