Chapter 117
Chapter 117
+25 BONUS
Once I’m certain he’s asleep, I let out a soft sigh and bend down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Goodnight, little wolf,” I whisper. The familiar nickname feels even more ironic now.
After changing out of my gown, I’m not even close to feeling tired. Rather, I change into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t–shirt, stuffing my feet into slippers and padding down the hall to my studio. Arthur’s room is quiet and dark when I pass, and I figure he’s sleeping.
Quietly, I enter my studio and get to work. I don’t have any particular idea in mind tonight–I just put on a pair of headphones and listen to classical music and let my brush flow. Before I know it, shapes and silhouettes are forming on the blank canvas, my arm moving in time with the gentle strains of a symphony.
But it’s not long before I see it.
The figures in the painting.
Two figures, a man and a woman, fumbling in a dark closet. A bare breast, a tongue lapping at flesh, a head thrown back in pleasure. By the time I realize what I’ve done, I gasp, dropping my paintbrush on the floor.
I’ve accidentally painted myself and Arthur without even meaning to.
Stunned, I stare at the painting for several long moments, the symphony still playing in my ears. Each curve of flesh, each harsh line of that tuxedo feels like a stab in the heart. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, a hot fire burning through my low belly.
The symphony grows in speed, the tempo turning frantic, just like my pulse.
Only then, once the room is silent enough to suffocate, does he release his grip on my wrist. I stagger backwards and sink down onto the daybed behind me, not caring if I get paint on the pillows.
Slowly, painfully so, he stoops and picks up a particular shred of canvas. White and black paint smear across his fingertips as he studies the depiction of my face, eyes closed and mouth smiling.
1/2
+25 BONUS
Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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