I don't normally paint in the early evenings, the light's usually wrong, but I'm just feeling it today. I woke up this morning with the burning urge to get more work done, and other than taking a quick break to gulp down some tea, I've been going at it nonstop for almost ten hours straight.

The piece I'm working on is different than my normal pieces, it's nowhere near as dark or as death focused, but when I'm feeling the flow like this I just run with it. I've decided to do a surreal landscape, the lake in front of me serving as the base for the painting, but I know by the time I'm finished it's not going to look at all like a lake at all.

Instead I'm painting… I don't know, dark hope, maybe? I just feel like right now there's so much positive possibilities in the world that I don't even need to try and find the light, it's just flowing through me while the darkness is what I have to scratch and scrub for, and because of that I just need to make sure I've got enough greens, yellows, and reds to blend for the combinations I'm creating.

I use my feathering brush to adjust some orange cloud-like shapes in the lower left corner of my canvas when I hear a knocking on my door. Looking over, I see it's Dan, and at the same time my stomach grumbles. If I've ever needed a better reason to stop what I'm doing, I can't think of one.

“Hey,” I greet him with after waving him in. Going over, I stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss, smiling. “How's it going, Farmer Dan?”

“Farmer… very funny,” Dan growls, pulling me in closer for a deeper kiss. His lips and his hands on my hips awaken a different type of hunger within me, but first things first. “How's it going today?”

“It's been awesome,” I admit, stepping back and grinning. “And I've now marked you as mine. You've got a splot of red on your cheek.”

Dan touches the red dot, then lowers his hand. “Okay. I'll let it stay for now, it won't last too long the way I tend to sweat.”

“Which, by the way, I appreciate you washing up before coming over,” I reply, sniffing. “What is that, Irish Spring?”

“Smelly enough, cheap, and my skin doesn't mind it,” Dan says. “So what's been so awesome?”

“Come look and see.” I lead Dan over to my canvas, showing him my progress. “I know it doesn't seem like a lot, but this one’s in oils, not acrylics. They take a long time to dry, even with Liquin.”

“No, it looks… amazing,” Dan says, his voice soft. “I mean, I see you're only about a third done unless you're wanting to leave all that space white but it just feels incomplete still.”

“It is,” I agree, grinning. “So what brings you over?”

“Well, I wanted to first apologize again for doubting you,” he says, turning to me. “Willow set me straight on that fact pretty clearly.”

I can't help it, I laugh. “Dan, Willow told me everything. Thank you, first off, for being honest and open with her. She likes you, by the way.”

“She's an interesting woman,” Dan replies, shrugging. “I felt even more like an idiot for doubting you after meeting her. She's very unique.”

“She said the same about you… I think that's her seal of approval by the way,” I joke. “Seems I've picked up a sister or something. Not sure how to classify her, but that's okay.”

Dan stops, looking at me with a mixture of desires, and I feel like for the first time I can almost read his mind. I blush, knowing exactly what part of his conversation with Willow he's thinking about. “So uhm… I hope you didn't mind when she started calling me your girlfriend.”

Dan stops, and goes over to one of my chairs to sit down. “Honestly, the idea had my head spinning all day yesterday, which is why I didn't come over to talk about it. Well,” he says with a small chuckle, “that and I didn't want to seem too desperate and pathetic.”

“I don't think you're pathetic,” I comment, sitting down. “Dan, Willow didn't quite tell me everything, I know she gave you some advice. But she said that it was all meant just for you. But I don't see you as pathetic at all. I… well, you know how you've been able to turn me on.”

“And when you touch me I feel like I just stuck my finger in a light socket,” Dan replies before wincing. “Maybe not the best analogy, but you get the idea.”

“So… do you want to talk about things? Or just stay for dinner? Or, I don't know….”

“Go bang like a couple of horny gerbils in the bedroom?” Dan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Get some more colors smeared between us?”

I smile, flushing while at the same time feeling my nipples tingle at the thought. “Something like that.”

Dan nods, leaning back. “Truth is, I could do all three. How about we start with dinner and talk, and if I don't screw things up too much at that point… we'll see how the night goes?”

I grin, nodding. “Sounds great. I've got a whole pound of spaghetti to boil up, and you'll never want to leave once you get a taste of my grandmother's spaghetti sauce, which she passed down to me in a very secret and important ceremony.”

“I'm sure. Lot's of Italian grandmothers in the O'Hara family tree?” Dan asks, chuckling. “Or is she the outside DNA in the mix?”

“Something like that. She's actually still alive, my maternal grandmother,” I reply, sticking out my tongue. “And her family traces its roots all the way back to Little Italy, thank you very much.”

“Far be it from me to criticize anyone who has ties to that neighborhood,” Dan answers, holding up his hands. “You never know who the family might be friends with. But spaghetti sounds great.”

I grin, feeling an unusual sense of hominess as I get my pots and pans out and get to work. As I get the tomatoes in the saucepan to start breaking down, Dan comes over to try and help out, but I brandish my wooden spoon at you. “Oh no you don't, mister! You aren't stealing my nona's recipe! Italian recipe with Irish temper equals a very bad mix for thieves!”

Dan grins, and backs up to lean against the table before sitting down in one of my dining room chairs. “So… I guess this does mean I'm your boyfriend?”

“I think of you that way,” I confirm, stirring the canned stewed tomatoes. Not as good as Grandma's fresh tomatoes, but they work in a pinch if I balance it with some garlic properly. “And am I your girlfriend?”

Dan nods, running his hand through his hair. “Chrissy, you scare the hell out of me. For four years now, I've barely spoken to anyone. That first night we talked I had a sore throat afterwards because I'm so unused to it. But I wake up and I… I want to spend time with you. You help me feel a little more at peace with who I am, with what I am. And it just… I know I've got a long way to go.”

“Then what scares you?” I ask, starting to slice up some Italian sausage in my fridge that I'd originally planned to do hot dog style. Hey, make do with what you’ve got, and be glad that you have more than some people. That’s what Grandma O’Hara always said.

“Because I'm worried I'm going to fuck this up,” Dan admits. “I know when I look in the mirror and see myself, I don't see the same person that you see. And I worry that disconnect is going to get in the way at some point. But I'm going to try and see that man, and see who you see, because I do care about you.”

I smile, coming over and taking Dan's hand. “And I care about you. As for you being weird… I'm an artist, weird is my business. I just want to ask you one thing.”

“What?”

I grin, and straddle his waist, putting my arms around his neck. “Do you find me attractive because of me, or because I'm the first woman to talk to you in four years?”

Dan grins and leans in, kissing the curve of my neck. “You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen. And the only thing that's stopping me from wanting to seduce you right now is that I know we'd start a kitchen fire with what you have on the stove.”

I whimper as his lips trace my neck and nibble, and I feel the large hardness grow in his jeans. “I know… God I know,” I sigh as I force myself to push away from him. “But you better eat hearty. I'm not going to let you go home after dinner.”

“And if I want to run home for fresh underpants?” he asks, making me grin. “What?”

“What do you need underpants for?” I ask. “Come on, get up here. You can help me get the rest of dinner done, and then we'll just have to entertain ourselves.”

Dan joins me, setting out plates and other things as I need him to do until dinner's ready. As I plate up the steaming piles of pasta, he nods in appreciation. “It looks delicious.”

“You're welcome,” I joke as I carry the plates over. “Ready?”

“Just a moment,” Dan says, sitting down and taking my hand. “I just want you to know… I'm going to do my best to let go of my fears and worries. I don't understand it, but I'm going to try my hardest to be the man you see.”

I grin, giving his fingers a squeeze. “And I hope to be the sexy, vivacious woman that seems to turn you on so much. Now, let's eat, and we'll see what we can do about living up to our ideals.”