Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying
Pete's POV
Whoever says that Chicago doesn't get cold because it's south of Wisconsin is dead wrong and should be shot. I'm wearing a thermal top, a long sleeved shirt, a track jacket, a hoodie, and my parka. I have a scarf cutting off circulation to my face, which I can't feel anyway due to sure frostbite, two pairs of socks on; ditto for gloves; and about six of those thermal packs hidden in various spots on my body. And I'm going ice skating with Roxy today. I rang her doorbell and when she opened the door I smiled despite the insane frigid temperature striving to freeze my saliva and choke me. I couldn't help but smile though, she looked great.
"Hey, my mom never came home last night so we have the place to ourselves," she said softly. She stepped aside and closed the door, then proceeded to unzip my jacket for me. She hung it up and I de-mummified myself from all of the extra layers.
Pretty soon we were sitting in the living room on a bed made of pillows and thick down comforters, holding scorching mugs of her homemade bittersweet hot chocolate. Roxy put her cup on a coaster on the coffee table, and I did too, so I could pull her onto me. We laid like that for at least an hour, discussing the upcoming trip to her dad's house in Door County.
"So tell me more about your studio. I never fully got the details," I prompted. I traced the dragon on her face.
"Well, it's a small shack of a barn that was there already when we moved in. I got a job as soon as I turned fourteen and I started to remodel it. Pretty soon I was sleeping out there, and once I moved all of my stuff out there to make my point to my parents, they let me stay there."
"I'm impressed. That's pretty independent of you." She smiled, and when she smiles it just makes my day, knowing that I made her that happy.
She isn't happy that often. She told me that once.
"Pete, since I've met you I've looked forward to waking up. Every day makes sense to live now." She smiled then too.
"Thanks, Pete," she said in the present.
"Anytime," I whispered and kissed her.
Roxy's POV
I got off of Pete and crawled over to our stereo set and flipped through the large collection of CDs mom and I shared, mostly Celtic and classical stuff. I kept my rock and metal in my room for my own personal use. I found the burned CD I wanted and slipped it in. The sound of a violin playing Beethoven's Tenth Symphony Winter with a piano accompaniment. I crawled back to Pete and sat back in his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and I poured his hot chocolate into my mug and we shared it and kept listening.
"That was beautiful. Who was it?" he asked.
"That was me on violin and my friend Brent on piano." He just stared at me. "Yes, I got a lot of positive feedback on that when I posted it on my site." Oh wait, I don't think that I ever told him that I had a site.
"You have a website? What's on it?" He was always so eager to find out more about me, maybe this relationship will work. The next song started, "Stille Nacht" and I was singing in German. Pete's eyes wouldn't wander from mine.
"Well," I tried to divert his attention to something other than my face. "It's just a lot of my work."
"Like what? Your artwork? Because that stuff is great. I love the picture you gave me for Halloween. I love how I'm wearing Jack's clothes and holding a pumpkin like he was in the movie." He was referring to the canvas oil I did of him as Jack Skeleton from "The Nightmare Before Christmas". I smiled again.
"Thank you. And yes, it is of my art, but it's also my main source of income right now. I post the pictures of the paintings and people bid on it. It's fun. What people like is how I can make them a personal portrait if they send a picture to me." An odd expression crossed Pete's features, like he wanted to say something but really couldn't, and in a compromise he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to mine again.
Whoever says that Chicago doesn't get cold because it's south of Wisconsin is dead wrong and should be shot. I'm wearing a thermal top, a long sleeved shirt, a track jacket, a hoodie, and my parka. I have a scarf cutting off circulation to my face, which I can't feel anyway due to sure frostbite, two pairs of socks on; ditto for gloves; and about six of those thermal packs hidden in various spots on my body. And I'm going ice skating with Roxy today. I rang her doorbell and when she opened the door I smiled despite the insane frigid temperature striving to freeze my saliva and choke me. I couldn't help but smile though, she looked great.
"Hey, my mom never came home last night so we have the place to ourselves," she said softly. She stepped aside and closed the door, then proceeded to unzip my jacket for me. She hung it up and I de-mummified myself from all of the extra layers.
Pretty soon we were sitting in the living room on a bed made of pillows and thick down comforters, holding scorching mugs of her homemade bittersweet hot chocolate. Roxy put her cup on a coaster on the coffee table, and I did too, so I could pull her onto me. We laid like that for at least an hour, discussing the upcoming trip to her dad's house in Door County.
"So tell me more about your studio. I never fully got the details," I prompted. I traced the dragon on her face.
"Well, it's a small shack of a barn that was there already when we moved in. I got a job as soon as I turned fourteen and I started to remodel it. Pretty soon I was sleeping out there, and once I moved all of my stuff out there to make my point to my parents, they let me stay there."
"I'm impressed. That's pretty independent of you." She smiled, and when she smiles it just makes my day, knowing that I made her that happy.
She isn't happy that often. She told me that once.
"Pete, since I've met you I've looked forward to waking up. Every day makes sense to live now." She smiled then too.
"Thanks, Pete," she said in the present.
"Anytime," I whispered and kissed her.
Roxy's POV
I got off of Pete and crawled over to our stereo set and flipped through the large collection of CDs mom and I shared, mostly Celtic and classical stuff. I kept my rock and metal in my room for my own personal use. I found the burned CD I wanted and slipped it in. The sound of a violin playing Beethoven's Tenth Symphony Winter with a piano accompaniment. I crawled back to Pete and sat back in his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and I poured his hot chocolate into my mug and we shared it and kept listening.
"That was beautiful. Who was it?" he asked.
"That was me on violin and my friend Brent on piano." He just stared at me. "Yes, I got a lot of positive feedback on that when I posted it on my site." Oh wait, I don't think that I ever told him that I had a site.
"You have a website? What's on it?" He was always so eager to find out more about me, maybe this relationship will work. The next song started, "Stille Nacht" and I was singing in German. Pete's eyes wouldn't wander from mine.
"Well," I tried to divert his attention to something other than my face. "It's just a lot of my work."
"Like what? Your artwork? Because that stuff is great. I love the picture you gave me for Halloween. I love how I'm wearing Jack's clothes and holding a pumpkin like he was in the movie." He was referring to the canvas oil I did of him as Jack Skeleton from "The Nightmare Before Christmas". I smiled again.
"Thank you. And yes, it is of my art, but it's also my main source of income right now. I post the pictures of the paintings and people bid on it. It's fun. What people like is how I can make them a personal portrait if they send a picture to me." An odd expression crossed Pete's features, like he wanted to say something but really couldn't, and in a compromise he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to mine again.
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