Like Like You're Dying [Jay/Sleeps]

"We need it a little out of the way," He also spoke in a whisper, meeting her halfway in the lean-in. They walked like this, slowly, murmuring to themselves like gossiping schoolgirls. "I want it to go untouched, I don't want anyone erasing us." The lack of graffiti around the campus showed their policy. "Come on, I have an idea." Logan began to walk, stuffing the can under his jacket once more, grabbing onto her hand and pulling her along. Up stairs, up stairs, he was tired when they got to the rooftop. But he exploded back into the cold autumn air with a new vigor, and climbed some more; jumping up the roof of the stairwell they exited from, to a small plateau not meant for trodding on. They'd leave something for the birds.

"Come on," he said, offering a hand down to the girl. "You can do basic climbing, can't you?" His narrow-eyed smirk was a challenge.

He wanted to leave something permanent, huh? That was understandable. Everyone was afraid of being forgotten. In a way, you could live on after death in little symbols like that. The last thing she wanted was to live forever, but it wouldn't hurt to oblige, would it? Jane followed him through the stairs, his hand clasped in hers, keeping up a steady pace behind him. By the time they reached the rooftop, you could hear her shallow breaths, and the cold autumn air in her lungs burned like fire. Jane matched his grin and grabbed his hand with a renewed strength. "Don't get so cocky." She pulled herself up and clambered up beside him, taking new life in the bracing chill that nipped at her skin.

The air tasted fresher up here.

It was so tempting to throw herself off and go flying, even if only for a few seconds, but she resisted the urge. Something told her Logan wouldn't appreciate it after all the effort it took to get up here.

Once again Logan revealed the can, no longer wishing to anneal it, holding the nozzle with the tip of his finger. He shook it like he had always seen in the movies, and looked down at the ground, the concrete canvas that was theirs to play with. He slanted the nozzle to the ground, making sure the opening was pointed to the ground and not at his face, and sprayed. It came out fast, and he left a dot on the ground before stopping with a sudden alarm. "That's not so bad," he said, and at the right side of the square space, he continued his masterpiece, a simple LW, the W branching from the right point of the L. He bolded them, and stopped, shaking the can to find it a bit lighter.

"You should have enough," he said, tossing it to her, grinning at his work. It was no street graffiti, but it was his.

Jane snatched the can out of the air with a nimble grace. "So greedy," she sighed, giving the can a shake. So much paint, and so much space. He'd left her enough to work with. After a moment of thoughtful consideration, pacing around an empty space of concrete, she bent down onto one knee and started her work. Sweeping, looping strokes over the concrete, with a simple elegance that made their graffiti look more like calligraphy. A stylized '9' appeared, a bend, a loop, the tail sweeping out and unfurling into a regal 'Q' just below. She moved like an artist with a brush, with light quiet curving strokes. Once she'd finished down there, she moved back up, finishing it off with short, strong, jerking movements, that looked almost crude in comparison to the handiwork before.

She stood up, gave the near-empty spray can another rattle, and tossed it carelessly to the side. It bounced off the concrete like a bell.

9 - DAY
Queen

9-Day? Logan could appreciate the craftsmanship, the way she formed the art. It was way better than his dinky little LW, and he gave it the recognition it deserved: a long stare and a whistle. But 9-Day? It was the Queen part he got, the reference to her namesake, but this was a puzzle to him.
"What does it mean?" He stepped back, wondering if spraypaint started wet, if it would streak if he ran his foot over it. He didn't want to take the chance. Logan also made a mental note to collect the spray can. He didn't want to leave a trace; less chance of someone finding it.

"Lady Jane Grey ruled England for nine days," she answered as she stepped back from her artwork, looking glad for the chance to rattle off some obscure history. "Smart girl. Pretty. Married to a powerful guy. Her cousin was the king, and while he was on his deathbed, he skipped over his sisters to name her as queen. She didn't want it, but she didn't have a choice, so she went to London. Right afterwards, they imprisoned her and chopped her head off to crown Bloody Mary." Jane smiled and slipped her hands into her pockets, rocking in the soles of her feet. "Isn't that a sad story?"

"Eh." Logan walked over, picking up the can and ducking down by the side. He gave a shrug, mouth tilted as he peered back at her. "Who'd want to live in those times anyway? Come on, I know a great place down the street that sells mediocre Chinese food." He smiled, then turned back around, lowering his body until it was safe enough to hop down. He bounced from foot to foot, aware of the cold brought by the blueblack air, the setting sun.