Hazel in the Demon's Den

Hazel was nearly done with her painting when Will got home and came looking for her. She heard him call her name a few times very faintly inside the house so she hollered "I'm out back!" as loudly as she could.

He followed the sound of her voice and smiled widely when he saw what she was doing. "You're painting! I haven't seen you paint before."

She wiped some sweat off her forehead while holding her paintbrush, feeling somehow sheepish. Her earlier assessment that Will was excited about her painting things for his house was obviously spot on.

"Yeah, I finally had time since those dumb character designs are done. Unfortunately, I put off my actual job to do this so I'll be working on that the rest of the night."

Will frowned. "Won't your wrist cramp from all of that?"

He wasn't an artist; how did he know about wrist cramping? It was a serious problem. More than one person in her program during school developed carpal tunnel or shoulder pain from not doing proper warm up exercises or drawing too hard for too long with bad posture.

Hazel shrugged. "I'm always mindful of my posture and do stretching exercises every so often. There have been entire days where I've done nothing but draw or paint and I've never had a problem."

Will narrowed his eyes skeptically but let it go and headed back inside, offering to make dinner while she finished up. That was awfully nice of him. A small smile remained on her face as she put the finishing touches on her painting. She would sign it once it dried.

A thought occurred to her. How should she sign her painting now? Earlier this week she had changed her last name legally at Will's request.

It was the only thing he had asked of her since they were married. Changing it back when they eventually divorced would be slightly inconvenient but it wasn't like she was terribly attached to 'Dixon' anyway.

Hazel had her new social security card but only had a temporary Utah driver's license to replace her California one. The real one would arrive in the mail sooner or later.

Her bank account and social media had been easy to change. The last thing would be her health insurance but Will wanted to switch her over to his since it had better coverage anyway. She was officially a Sheffield but she didn't know how to change her signature.

Stupidly, she had practiced signing 'Hazel Lawson' over and over while she was engaged to Billy. She even managed to do Lawson and Dixon in the same number of strokes after some practice so it would be easier for her to make the change.

Technically speaking she had already signed in an electronic signature box using a stylus when she went to get her driver's license changed. She was trying to remember how exactly she had formed the letters so she could replicate it on her painting.

Well, she would know when the driver's license arrived. Her signature would be printed directly onto it. Waiting wouldn't be too much of a problem. They could hang it up after she signed it.

Leaving it out to dry overnight would certainly be easier but she was worried about wildlife getting to it. Her best option was to move it somewhere safe and pray she didn't smudge anything. She had learned how to carry canvases with paint on them back in college so she was fairly skilled at it.

Hazel gingerly lifted it off the easel from below and made sure to only hold the dry white parts underneath the canvas. She set it down and leaned it against a wall in the converted garage downstairs and rushed back up to get the easel. The safest place for a painting to dry was always on the easel.

When she came back down she picked the painting back up from the bottom and place it gently back on the easel. Phew. Now it could dry in peace.

Satisfied, she headed back up to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "What are you making?" she asked curiously.

"Fried rice," Will responded as he continued mixing it around in the pan.

It had been a long time since she had any sort of rice dish. She usually made casseroles because she was lazy and they could feed her for days. There were better things to spend her time on than cooking.

Once the food was done, Will served up two portions and brought them over to the table. He sat down across from Hazel and couldn't hold back his laughter.

"I just noticed you have paint on your face."

She hastily stood and rushed to the nearest bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. Sure enough, a streak of green was on the left side of her forehead. How long had that been there?

Hazel looked around frantically for a small towel but soon found it unnecessary. Will was already holding up a damp cloth and telling her to hold still so he could get it. She flushed at the simple intimacy.

He smoothed her hair back once he was done and her face grew even hotter. It was stupid to be this flustered over a simple touch. Sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night with Will's hand on her stomach or back and this wasn't nearly as mortifying.

"You're really cute when you blush," he stated, making her blush even harder.

"Don't do that," she insisted.

"Do what?"

"Call me cute! I'm not cute!"

When you were less than five feet tall, you tended to resent infantilizing words such as 'cute,' 'adorable,' or 'little.' Complete strangers had called her cute before. Back when her hair was blonde she looked even more like a little kid; it was one of the main reasons she started dying it.

Colored hair was most popular among people in their twenties since high schoolers couldn't get away with it due to school dress codes. It helped her look older. People said that looking young would be an asset someday but right now Hazel found it annoying.

"Oh, you're most definitely cute," Will said with a grin. "But if it makes you feel better I can call you beautiful instead. Both descriptions apply."

Was it possible to burn to death from blushing too hard? Because if it was, Hazel was pretty close to dying. Where was this sudden cheesiness coming from?!

It wasn't like Will had never complimented her before. But usually he didn't have such a devastating effect on her well-being. She was about as far from okay right now as possible since she felt like she might spontaneously combust.