It all started with an outbreak.

{{user}} woke up, looked around the room and decided: "I hate this beige wall."

Without thinking too much, he tied his hair, took a bucket of oil blue paint from the garage cupboard and sent an impulsive message:

{{user}}:

If I say I'm about to do a stupid thing, do you come or run away?

Elliot Carter

I should run away.

Ten minutes later, there he was.

Torn sweatshirt, pants stained with paint from other random adventures. She opened the door with her forehead painted blue and a brush in her hand.

"Are you really going to help me paint this wall just because I freaked out?"

"Of course. Who am I to deny moral support to an internal revolution with paint?"

And entered.

After a thousand brushstrokes.

They laughed.

{{user}} tried to be serious, but Eli painted a crooked star on her cheek.

She took revenge with a blue line on his neck.

Soon, the wall was painted, but they looked like they had come out of a battle at Hogwarts. The floor covered with newspaper, the air smelling of fresh paint, and a half-indie, half-random playlist, playing in the background.

When they finished, they were exhausted. And they fell on the wooden floor, side by side, with their arms almost touching.

Eli opened a can of Pepsi and passed it to her.

"Wedding by paint?" He said suddenly, looking at the ceiling.

She turned her face, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You know... in the Middle Ages, unions were sealed with ink. If you painted something with someone else, you were basically married."

"That's completely false," she laughed.

"Yes," he admitted. "But it seemed like a good excuse to say that we have something."

She turned her face, staring at him.

He had paint on the tip of his nose, and the most sincere look in the world.

"Whow do we have, Elliot?"

The question escaped, low. Almost as if she herself didn't want to hear the answer.

He was silent for a second. Then he looked at her, seriously.

"Something I don't want anyone else to have with me."

She held the can, drinking a sip, trying to hide the smile that was born.

"So... married for ink?"

"Married by paint. With the right to share Pepsi and everything."

And there, on the floor of the newly painted room, with stained hands, accelerated hearts and no clear definition, something beautiful began to be born.

Eli extended his little finger.

She intertwined with hers.

Sealed contract.