Rio didn't want to admit it. He didn't want anyone to see what his thoughts were revealing. He already hated what he was becoming. But his growing interest was too much for his beating heart. No, this isn't like him. He shouldn't be worrying about this trivial matter. But he's getting nervous about what this could possibly mean. He tries to focus on the paintbrush in his hand and the black-ish red swishing water beside him. The water sort of reminds him of his own dark red hair that reached down past his shoulder blades. Half of it in a pigtail and the other half left down. He plays with the ends of his hair and looks up at the painting in front of him. He sits on his floor in a somewhat lousy apartment with paint and art supplies strewn across the living area. Outside of the living room there was only a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a single small bedroom with most of it taken up by a large mattress on the bare floor. But, Rio didn't mind it, he is fairly lonely either way. He doesn't really have friends to invite to his house to begin with.
His brain just won't leave him alone. He can't stop thinking about this interest, pestering his mind to just act on it. He's so curious yet so against it. Everything in his mind tells him to leave it alone. But how can he leave it to fester and grow? He decides that he must get rid of this feeling as soon as possible. But how?
With that thought in mind, Rio stands up, washes his hands, and put on a black sleeveless crop top and a pair of dark blue khaki shorts that went to just below his knee. Fashion was never really his thing but he wore what was comfortable to him. Which happened to be crop tops and dark khaki shorts. He grabs his keys, and a small camera to take pictures of the sunset while he goes on a walk to clear his mind.