*Lily*
After I had convinced myself William had no interest in me and stumbled around in my pajamas for most of Sunday, trying to fill my hollowed heart with junk food, sloppy drawings, and bad television, I resigned myself—he wasn't calling.
By Monday, I was in crimson paint up to my elbows. I dove into a new collection that morning, what I wanted to call City on Fire—a series of skyscrapers, boats along the river, and Coney Island amusement park rides, all with burgundy, fire-streaked lines.
I came to the unwitting conclusion that only a professional relationship was to be my future with William. I grieved for what could have been and wondered if I came on too strong with the date, dinner and the kiss. Did he think I was throwing myself at him?
My phone dinged, but I ignored it. I
