"How many pages is the essay again?" Sage asked, his fingers speedily typing on the keyboard.

"Three to four, and that's not including the title page or references," she muttered, deeply invested in her painting. The Servus Autem Fortuna was almost complete. All that was left was the blonde woman standing amid the storm.

He bit into the biryani they had picked up from a local Indian place. "I got the intro and half of the first paragraph done. We're just comparing the themes of The Modern Prometheus to the poem, right?"

"Uh-huh. Make sure you cite correctly," Solace said, inching closer to her easel to get a better angle.

"APA? MLA?"

"APA."

"My favourite citation format."

Solace halted her painting for a moment. "You have a favourite citation format?"

Sage shrugged, resuming his typing. "Doesn't everybody?"

Now that I think about it, I did favor MLA. Of course, she preferred the opposite of Sage. She glanced over at her laptop, reading over the introduction. Since he was always sitting around and doing absolutely nothing, Solace thought it would be a good idea to keep him busy by doing her English essay that was due soon. She would never say it to his face, but she trusted him with her work. She would still read over it, however. I'm not going to blindly put my faith in him. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up writing a summary of why he hated me, instead of the actual essay.

"Don't hover," Sage murmured. "You're messing with my thinking process."

"I'm just checking."

He leaned his head against the wall and stared at her lazily. "You do realize I got higher grades in English than you. Twice."

She met his eyes. "That's because you had Lewinsky, who fell asleep during class while I had Bandara, who unfortunately cared about educating her students and cultivating our minds or some shit."

His mouth quirked up as if he wasn't surprised that she was disagreeing with him over something minuscule again. "Do you always want to argue with me?"

Sage's question was laced in amusement and all his attention was fixated on her with his typing put to a halt. "What can I say? You're just a very disagreeable person," Solace remarked, breaking their stare, and adjusting her seat on the ground. The tarp crinkled underneath her weight. My legs are beginning to ache.

"I don't think so," he denied, shaking his head. She felt his stare searing into her. "I think you just like arguing with me."

Solace analyzed the reference pictures. She had been staring and examining it for days now. The part of her that admired it was now absolutely sick of the painting. Why did the Italians have to be so extra? "Like you're any better. You fought with a baby."

"Not my finest moment, but he had it coming. That little shit," Sage grumbled. They were lucky Gina's husband had picked up Kyo an hour later after he threatened to shove the baby in the closet, or otherwise, he would've had a breakdown with the banging of the lids.

"First a toddler and then Santa Clause. You really know how to pick your fights," she muttered, dipping her brush into a mix of paints she combined to make the perfect shade of blonde.

"I wasn't going to fight Santa. I was going to fight you," he corrected in a matter-of-fact tone.

Solace raised a brow at him. "Yeah?"

"Saint Nick said to fight it out behind the mall. I was ready, but you were too much of a coward," he shrugged exaggeratedly.

He was baiting her. She was fully aware of that, and she refused to give him what he wanted. "I wasn't going to get into a fistfight with you behind a shopping mall like we're 10."

"Wimp," he said under his breath.

And she caved in. Solace rolled her eyes and smacked him in the head. There was a satisfying thump when her hand made contact. A smile pulled at her lips when he groaned as he rubbed the side of his skull. Perhaps she was a psychopath when his pain made her grin.

"That was unnecessary," Sage said dryly.

"Seemed pretty necessary to me."

"You're a menace."

"And you're an irritating imbecile. What's new?"

Sage narrowed his eyes, shutting the laptop that was on his thighs slowly. He leaned closer to her, his hand reaching out for something. She froze, watching him carefully when his face become close enough to touch. She felt the heat radiate off him, and she wanted to smack him in the face and push him away. Solace didn't like how close he was, and her annoyance furthered when suddenly, she felt cold paint on her face.

He ran the brush softly down her cheek, his lips parted and his eyes sparkling. His usual smirk hadn't made an appearance on his face, but she knew he was still feeling all too pleased with himself. Sage didn't say a word, only tilting his head to provoke her.

Solace inhaled deeply to calm herself, catching a whiff of coconut butter. She couldn't get into a paint fight with him. Not when her painting was sitting inches away but shoving the brush into his eyes and having him taste paint for days sounded appealing. "Have you been using my body wash?" she asked quietly.

"It smells great. Leaves my skin feeling soft, and I read it doesn't use any parabens. You should buy some more."

Did he always have to aggravate me? "Give my paintbrush back," she commanded, holding out her hand.

"Always so demanding," Sage whispered playfully and still all too close to her.

He made no movement to give it back, so without taking her eyes off him, she felt around on the tarp for another brush. Her fingers made contact with the soft bristles, and although it wasn't as big as the one he held, it would do. Solace swiftly brought it up to his face, smothering his nose and lips with yellow paint. "Now we're even," she said.

"We don't play to get even," reminded Sage, immediately jolting forward to smear her face with more paint.

But Solace was expecting the attack as she quickly grabbed his wrist before it made contact. The brush was inches away from her face. "This time we are. We have a replica of a 100 million dollar painting in front of us. We can't risk ruining it."

"Then we put it away, and I'll turn your face blue," Sage said casually as he attempted to yank his hand away from her grip.

If it wasn't for the painting and the fact she was worried about ruining her floors and walls, she would've dumped an entire pint on him. But no, she would be mature about it. Solace Laurent can be mature and the bigger person when it came to Sage. Then sounded unconvincing even to me. "I have no desire to look like Smurf, and besides, yellow isn't your colour," she poked haughtily. She cautiously let go, placing her brush down on the ground before them. "I concede."

Backing down to him left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Sage's eyes flickered over her face, his own contorting one into deep thought. He was never the one to give in either. That was why their fights rarely settled. She could see it in his expression. He wanted nothing more than to get into a full-on paint fight. "Fine," he sighed glumly, "but only because we both know I would've smurfed your ass." Sage dropped the brush and glanced at her offended. "And excuse you, yellow is most definitely my colour. All colours are my colours."

Her brows rose from the creation of his new verb. "Thank you. Let's get back to work," she said, her insides crawling from taking the polite approach. It felt wrong, so she muttered a quick something under her breath. "And yellow would wash you out."

Either Sage didn't hear her, or he chose to ignore her, but he opened the laptop again and started to write the essay.

They fell back into a rhythm with her completing the painting and him finishing her comparison essay. Occasionally, he would ask for her opinion about Frankenstein's monster and if the sentence made sense. Sage was talking about the alienation and family themes in the novel, and although she would have gone for the dangerous knowledge and revenge themes, it still worked. It didn't come as a shocker that they had disagreeing opinions about the themes. His body would stiffen up every time she pointed the brush towards him as if he was preparing himself for an ambush of oil paints. I'm not going to lie. The thought crossed my mind several times.

Solace was beginning to paint the body of the woman when her phone buzzed. She wiped her hands on the old t-shirt she wore while painting and grabbed it to see messages from Louis. They were all about Sage's family that he received from Jabari. She sent a quick text back, thanking him, and then glanced over at the boy sitting beside her. His finger was tapping his lip in concentration as he read over his work.

"Sage," she said, trying to get his attention.

He kept his focus on the laptop screen. "If you tell me to change the thesis, I will shove your face into a can of paint."

"That's not –"

"Actually, we don't have a paint can big enough to fit your big head."

A small gasp escaped her as she grabbed her face with both hands. "My head is normal-sized."

Sage ignored her and continued his abuse towards her perfectly proportionate head. "You look like that elf."

Here she was about to tell him about his family and best friend when he decided to insult her. There was a reason she refused to do nice things for him. "I do not."

Sage started typing again. "Maybe I can just shove you out the window, instead," he said to himself.

He was not about to shove her out of her own apartment window. If anything, she would be the one pushing him out. But she had been the bigger person once today. She could do it again. Would it shatter my soul? Absolutely. Would it make me vomit? Unquestionably yes. Solace read over the messages twice to remind herself that Sage was indeed a human with a family and not a dreadful pain in the ass demon that was birthed from evil.

"I got my brother to check on your family and Jabari," she said. His entire demeanor went rigid, and the typing ceased. "I wasn't sure if you knew how they were doing. I hope that was okay." Her last words came out quieter, doubtful. Asking Sage if that was what he wanted would have been the smarter move. But Solace had assumed he would want to since he wasn't allowed contact with them. He missed home. Hopefully, this would ease the ache just a bit.

Sage swallowed, and he would look at her. His voice was rough when he spoke. "And how are they?"

She handed him her phone. He could read the messages instead of her repeating everything to him. Solace figured he would rather have the moment with himself. He clutched the phone tightly, his jaw clenching as he read the texts. From what she read, his parents were doing better and that they went to church often to pray for Sage. His grandparents had moved back in with them a few months ago for the extra support, and his aunts and uncles were around usually. Louis said that Julian was working extra hours at the mechanic shop after their mother struggled to go back to work.

"They're still looking for you," she said gently. The texts mentioned how Julian, their father, and extended family still went around to local cities on the weekends to put up flyers, asking if anyone had seen Sage. They still posted on social media, trying to get something. Anything.

Sage wiped his eyes, but she never saw a single tear fall. "Why didn't they give up on me?" he whispered so quietly, she would have missed it if she wasn't listening intently.

Her heart reached out for him. "Because they thought you were still out there. They turned out to be right."

"I thought..." Sage faltered, clearing his throat, and reading over the messages again as if they were a lifeline. "I thought they would've moved on."

"You're not an easy person to move on from," she murmured. And it was the truth. Sage was the type of person who left an imprint on your life from the second he came roaring in. He wasn't the kind you forgot. From his bright smile to his exuberant personality, he left traces to make sure people knew that Sage Reyes was once there. "Your entire family from your cousins to your aunts and uncles are fighting so hard to get you back."

"They're just stubborn," he choked out, a small laugh leaving his lips. It sounded forced and unlike his buoyant laugh. "My tía's and tío's are relentless."

"Good thing they're persistent, huh?" she smiled, leaning forward to scroll down on the messages. "And look, Jabari visits your family often. He's doing okay, but he misses you."

Sage nodded, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. "Did he get into Brown like he wanted?"

"With a basketball scholarship and everything."

His lips curled up. "Good for him. He deserves it."

Her hand reached out for him, but she held it back. "You'll see Jabari and your family again," Solace stated with certainty.

It may have been the tenacity in her voice, or maybe his neck was beginning to hurt from looking down, but Sage finally met her gaze. She saw his shiny eyes from the unshed tears and the melancholic smile on his face. That was all she needed to make a promise to herself.

I'm going to get Sage Reyes home.

I just hope I don't kill him in the process.

"Finish my essay," she ordered casually. "I'm expecting no less than an A."

Sage shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips. "You're such an asshole," he muttered.

***

Author's Note:

Hi everyone!

Random question, but what citation format do you like? References are always a pain in the ass.

Unti next time – m.k.t