Az had eventually gathered the curage to go back to the room assigned to him, sitting on the bed and flopping back into a nap. He woke maybe an hour or two later, sitting up and rubbing his face. He stretches and lets out a soft squeaking sound as he stands, going to the bathroom. He turns on the shower water, watching it for a moment before he steps back and strips, tossing his clothes to the floor and stepping into the warm water. He lets out a slow breath of pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he tips his head back.
He spends a good half hour in the shower, slowly washing himself. He turns the water off, watching it drip slowly before stepping out and grabbing a towel. He shakes his head, splattering water onto the mirror and walls, a grin on his face as a few leftover drops dripped to his nose. He loops the towel around his waist and steps from the bathroom, digging through the stack of clothes that had been brought for him.
A light frown graces his features as he notes most of the clothes weren’t really his style. Plain jeans and some t-shirts, a new jacket and a new pair of shoes. . . He huffs and looks back to his own clothes, gray jeans, holes in the knees and paint splatters on them. His old band shirt that he had found in a lost and found bin and had sat there for a few weeks, and he had taken it. His flannel shirt that had been his mother’s worn almost to threads, but it was soft and he loved the thing. He looks back at the clothes before him and then shrugs, dressing into the new clothes.
He wanders from his room, flicking his hair from his face and wanders around until he found the girl from before, the one who had brought his the food he’d flushed down the toilet. He smiles at her, and asks where he could find art supplies. After getting the answer, he sniles and thanks her and wanders the house until he finds a closet. He nods slightly and opens it, grabbing a box of fabirc paints, paint setting, some brushes, colorful ballpoint pens, and some permanent marker. After a long moment, he wanders to the kitchen, digging through the bin of recycled material and pulls out a few cardboard boxes and grabs a knife. He cuts the boxes,opening them up to make a sheet of the material before taking his handful of stuff and walking back to his room.
He lays out his materials before changing his beans out for some pajama shorts and pulling a blanket around his shoulders. He lays the jeans out on the cardboard and the new shoes, looking at them and then looking at the paints. He huffs softly before picking a few colors and putting some out on the cardboard. He grabs the same colors in the markers and picks the shoes up, starting to draw on the soles. Little designs and small pictures, all colorful. When he finishes with the shoes, both of them covered with little images of lightning bolts, hearts, diamonds and a few other things. A word written on the inside of the sole, Vita valet viventium* on the left shoe and Memento et morieris** on the right in beautiful, scrawling script.
He looks at the jeans, and then grins. Time for the fun part. He picks up a few brushes and gets pain on them, painting on the cardboard a few strokes and then wiping th excess pan on the jeans. After doing this a few times, he picks up a pen and looks at it before grabbing a pair of scissors and opening the pen. He looks at tip before placing the sicors at the tips and squeezing. After a moment, the ball popped out onto the floor and ink dripped onto the cardboard. He nods, satisfied, and s reaches out, carefully flicking his wrist, causing the ink to splatter on the jeans. He does this with the more colors, and once he finishes, stands and looks down at the jeans, the pain had already dried and the ink was setting into the fabric. He just couldn’t wash the jeans for a few days and he would also have to wear them. The ink and paint would set, stain the jeans and he’d have a new, non-threadbare pare of arty jeans.
He grins and cleans up, throwing away the used and messed up pens, washes the brushes and stares to put the materials he had used away. He walks back to the closet and carefully puts them back where he found them. He looks over the closet, noting all the materials in it before making his wa back to the room. He looks at the jeans and reaches down, touching different places and looks at his hand, mostly dry. He nods once and goes to the bathroom, washing his hands and watches as the colors leak into the water and go down the drain.
After a few minuets, he goes back into the main room and sees one of the shake left on the dresser. He sighs softly and picks it up, sipping at it as he walks to the window and looks out. His gaze drifts over the skyline, a decent ways away from the city proper, and it made for a beautiful skyline. The towering buildings like giant behemoths in the sky. His gaze starts to lower, to the trees evenly spaced and lining the gate around Marco’s property, which was expansive as hell. Neatly manicuered green lawns, bushes and trees. A light reflects into his eyes and he looks down to it, his gaze settling onto a pool. Excitement thrilled into him, swimming. He loved swimming, maybe he could go for a swim tomorrow.
Az blinks, noticing a dark form in the water and it takes jus a few moments for him to recognize Marco in the water. His head tilts slightly to the side and he lets out a hum. He would deny it if anyone said he sounded appreciative of the other male. He watches as Marco swims his laps, absently sipping at the drink in his hand. His brown eyes were curious as he watches the other male swim before he blows out a breath and turns away from the window.
He looks back to the jeans and shrugs, changing into them and pulling the new shoes on before tying his mother’s shirt around his waist. He keeps his shake in hand before walking out of the room and making his wa out to the back, leaning against the door frame for a few moments and still watching Marco. He shakes his head and pushes the door open, stepping out into the cool evening air and runs his fingers through his hair. He finds a pool chair, sitting down on the edge of it and waiting for Marco to surface, still sipping at the drink.
*‘Life is worth living’ in latin
**‘Remember you will die’ in latin
