The One Who Stole the Sky

Breathing

Max's cheeks turned bright red. His tears were long dried now, as his focus remains on what Liesel had said.

"It's stupid, I'll just excuse myself..." Liesel turned around and began walking away.

"Don't." And so she turned back around and faced Max.

"Why do you do this?" Max slumps in his chair and puts his elbows on his knees.

"Do what?" Liesel asked. She rubbed her sweating palms along the sides of her dress.

"You always hold back what you have to say, and then in one long paragraph you let it all out completely unfiltered." Max explains.

"Now you decide to take note of that." Liesel snaps back in a sigh.

"I can't love you in that way, especially after what just happened." Max gestures his hand to the door.

"Why can't you!" Liesel cries.

"Because it will make me look like a user!" Max pointed to himself. After the explosion the debris and all of the tension settled, quietly everything fell, then there was silence. The damage left Max's face red hot and Liesel's as white as a ghost.

"Sylvia didn't leave me that long ago. I don't want it to seem like I'm desperate and careless. You deserve a well-rounded man. Please, don't settle for anyone. Don't settle for me." Max's words were light and spun off of his tongue like silk.

"I'm not settling for you. I want to be with you. I know you are not a user, so please, can we start over?" Liesel asked. She put her hands on his knees and stared at him with eyes of glass. Max leaned back and felt a little uncomfortable. After a moment of hope, Liesel slipped away into her room for a good portion of the afternoon.

Everything was so quiet now. Both of them thought of the same thing, but they both had different feelings. Max had felt...uncomfortable. He really didn't want to dwell on the thought of being with his friend, let alone feeling love for her in a very un-platonic way. He tried to keep her in his mind labeled as friend. He refused to think any other way about her. 'She has beautiful eyes', he would think, 'but many girls in Germany do too' he would reason. Liesel, in the other hand, spent the dragging day in her room with the door closed.

"An analysis on the behavior of Jane Bennet in the novel-" and then the words would smear from her tears. Black swirls of swollen ink would raise on the paper. Liesel would close her eyes and let the tear drop that was stuck under her eye drip hard on her table. She licked her lips and tasted the faint salty taste of her tears as they raced down her lips. The trail that was left after her tears remained on her face for some time. She decided to go out and talk to Max again. Did she want him to see her tears, or did she want to prove herself strong and independent in front of him? It didn't matter because Max was nowhere to be found. She slouched back on the couch and was left with the most dangerous thing- her thoughts.

Max mindlessly stumbled into the streets as the sun began to set. His mind was racing, jumping from one idea to the next. His walking was dictated and so swift that he virtually danced among other pedestrians. Where was he going? To him nowhere was the answer. The thoughts, the situation, everything pressured on him squeezed him out of his home. He winded up in front of the craft shop. The sign flash, and taunted Max to come inside.

"Fuck it." Max whispered as he opened the door and stepped inside. The lights were nearly dead inside, and one lonely weathered man barely peered from his small eyes at Max. Max sternly marched his way to the back of the store with a devious look on his face. Yellow, red, white, brown, and every color imaginable was gathered into his hands, along with every size brush in the store. With a breath, he let all of the contents disperse on the counter where the old man sat. The small eyes on the man widened as he saw Max had nearly bought out the entire paint aisle. The man rung up each tube and brush.

"You seem like you have a big project going on." The old man smiled his withering teeth to Max who just simply nodded back.

"Have fun, alright." The man put all of the supplies into a bag of brown paper, then handed it a crossed the counter.

"Thank you." Max bowed his head ever so slightly and took his bag. By this time the sun had set, and Max was soon pushed into the flowing nightlife of Munich.

"Why am I such an idiot with every little thing." He said to himself. Somehow he ended up back home without paying attention to where he was even going. The heavy bags had weighed him down and made him look rugged with his thin tired face clenching it's jaw at the heavy bags. The elevator came and took him to the top floor where he got off and waddled himself and the bags to the door.

Liesel heard footsteps and bags from the opposite side of the door. She jumped from the slate gray couch and turned the doorknob at once.

"Max?"

"Liesel..." Max sounded out of breath and relieved.

"Where were you?" Liesel asked.

"Just went to get more supplies." Max limply held the bags up and walked inside. Liesel shut the door and watched Max as he unpacked  all of supplies.

"That's a lot of paint." Liesel nervously played with her fingers.

"Yes." Max sighed.

"What are you going to do with all of it?" Liesel stepped closer to look.

"You will see." Max answered as he stepped back and looked at everything he had bought. Liesel stood more perplexed in her mind than in her heart for once.