Kade, however, had even bigger plans for me.

“I am honored your parents want me to draw a family painting, but please tell them I politely decline. I'm not at that level yet. Ask me in a couple of years and I'll be happy to.”

“They loved the pencil painting you did of me on canvas. It's currently hanging in my old room, by the way.” Kade spilled microwaved popcorn into a huge bowl, and I sniffed the air laced with the delicious butter and cheese smells. Oh, how I missed this.

The painting Kade referred to was the one I’d given him for his birthday. I called it ‘Kissed by the Sun’. A full body drawing in original size with faded background details, made from a few photos and memory. It was worth the four months I had spent on it.

The result had surpassed my expectations, and I was proud of it: a black and white pencil drawing of Kade sitting cross-legged on the grass, his eyelashes almost closed, face tilted towards the sun, a content smile gracing his lips. Sunrays kissing his skin, and his relaxed pose bestowed the picture with a soft and ethereal aura. It was a painting that made you smile and warmed your heart just by looking at it.

My best work to date, and I was a little sad Kade didn't want to keep it here for everyone to admire. I sighed.

“Drawing you is different. You're my muse, and I know you well. There's no way I could draw strangers in such depth as you. Not yet.”

“You do know Jarod.” Kade meant his identical twin brother, only Jarod wore a longer haircut. “By the way, he also wants a separate drawing. Maybe you could draw him first while you get to know my parents better?”

“I met Jarod exactly twice and we exchanged no more than, what, thirty or fifty sentences? I wouldn't define that as knowing a person,” I defended.

Two drawings. Was he crazy?! No way. Absolutely no. I went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of Pepsi for us. We were finally ready for the movie night, and it was about time to end this silly talk.

“We look the same. It shouldn't be that different?” Spoken like a man who didn't have a clue about drawing.

“Yes, it will. First, it will take ages to draw another picture in that detail, and we don't live that close, remember? Second, the depth won't be the same, the feeling won't be the same. So, no.”

The silence that followed was suspicious to say the least. I turned to him with narrowed eyes and the Pepsi bottle in hand.

“Feeling, huh?” Kade looked as pleased as punch. The bastard drew that word out of context deliberately, trying to give it another meaning.

“Careful, buddy, I have a cold weapon in my hand. Literally.” I lifted the bottle in my right. Kade made a motion with his fingers to lock his mouth and throw the invisible key into the sink. I ignored the laugh in his pale eyes and continued, “bottom line is I won’t be able to draw it right, so I won't bother wasting everyone's time.”

“What about doing something smaller then?” Kade asked as we relocated to the living room with a bowl of popcorn, soda, and two glasses.

“What do you mean?”

“Draw profiles or pictures from shoulders up? Not necessarily on canvas, but on paper, in A3 or something? Get familiar with their lines as you so often mention? It’s fine if you need time, but you gotta start somewhere.”

“Hmmm …” I pondered. Something like that could be doable, but … “Nah, the quality wouldn't be the same. I don't want your family to have something shitty from me.”

“You'll figure it out, I have no doubt.” Kade went to the DVD player. “So, what are we watching first?” The weasel changed the subject, but I didn't want to pursue it either. Hopefully he'd forget about the topic altogether.

“Silence of the Lambs? Or do we leave it for the end?” I made myself useful and filled two glasses with the sparkling brown soda we both loved.

“Knowing you, you won’t last till the end. You'll nod off on my shoulder soon after the third movie starts. Wait, it's almost eleven. Let me correct myself then: even before the second movie ends,” the insufferable man teased.

“I'm sorry, but all I hear is a certain someone being jealous of my superpower to nod off anywhere. Or maybe you’re scared to watch the movie alone?” I poked right back.

“Your hearing is failing you indeed, and combined with you falling asleep early, the two symptoms could point to an early onset of senility. Should I be concerned?” The make-believe doctor turned off the light and returned to the couch. Silence of the Lambs started playing.

“Keep talking and Hannibal Lecter might pay you a visit.”

“Nah, both of us would be too lazy to lift our bums and open the door for some psychotic old man,” Kade reasoned.

“From this small couch?” Like always, I didn't lose my chance to gripe about the couch.

Sure, it was softer than the old one, but this one was quite a bit shorter; I could no longer sleep on it. I had presumed my rather frequent sleepovers might have annoyed Kade and it was his polite way of asking not to sleep over as often. However, he adamantly denied it, reasoning he simply wanted for the couch to hog less room.

“It serves its purpose. Now, get that bowl of popcorn and come here.” Kade rested his right hand on the recliner, inviting me to come closer.

I placed the bowl between us and got comfortable.

“So, tell me again, why would someone allow for a green and gullible FBI trainee to handle a ruthless serial killer, who also conveniently happens to be an experienced psychiatrist?”

The focus of the banter shifted towards the movie, us commenting on errors in logic, what was cool, and how we would redo some scenes if we could.

I relaxed, realizing there would be no uncomfortable conversations tonight. Phew. We had watched movies dozens of times already—this was familiar and comfortable ground for me. By the middle of the movie, the popcorn was polished off, and my twitching fingers on his thigh demanded action.

Luckily, Kade didn't mind and allowed for the light to be turned back on. As I settled myself into the corner of the couch, I pondered how to draw him. I already did have one sketch of him sitting on a couch and watching a movie. Should I really draw a similar one? My mind opposed fervently—no duplicates in the Kade book!

I leafed to the page I drew a year ago. The picture displayed Kade’s profile comfortably reclining into the old couch, one arm resting on the recliner. His expression was relaxed, satisfied. It was a good picture, but there was some space to improve it. Decision made.

>>>>>