You were starting to paint again. It had become one of your many favorite hobbies, and it was always so difficult to manage in high school. You took a break from it for a long time, but all of a sudden when you graduated, nothing fulfilled you more than the acrylic colors and brushes.

Through all of your art and musical tendencies, you met Rob. At the time, he was a guitarist and vocalist for the band Tally Hall. It was based in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Exactly where you were located. You two had become friends shortly after talking. One thing led to another, and he became your other. It was honestly the happiest you had been in a while, and you were happy that now you had someone who could inspire you to be creative. Someone to share all of the emotions and feelings from your work to. And someone who would actually listen and care for what you put into each piece. He was perfect.

You were just finishing a piece of work, the reds and blues complementing each other and all the different shades that were scattered on the canvas. He came in and was getting dressed for something you thought was a gig. No, actually. He would have had on a yellow tie. And white button up. He had something nice yet casual on- a band shirt that was worn out yet still wearable, a flannel shirt- one from you for his birthday - and jeans.

As soon as he was done with getting changed, you finished the painting. You showed him, he loved it as always, and began to drag you out of the room. He told you to get dressed and be ready to leave in 10. So you did just that! You got ready and had one one of his - and your favorite dresses. He took you out to a nice spot where everything was calm. I guess he wanted to go on a little late night stroll. Adorable.

At one point of the night, he attempted to grab your hand, but you jerked away. With only genuine curiosity, he asked-

"Why did you move your hand away, babe?"

To which you responded with-

"You wanna...hold my hand like this..?" You lifted your hand to show him how your hands still had paint on them and were somewhat still wet with paint and water. He shook his head lightly, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Of course I do, love. No paint is gonna hurt me."