I purse my lips to keep my composure, despite wanting to smack him on the arm. He has the right idea, though.There could be secret meaning in his paintings. Examining them will be a good start, and hearing Carson’s explanations will give even more insight.
“Well, I paint in a semi-realistic style,” he says, leading us toward the closest piece. “I like to take places, emotions, or memories and add my personal flair to them. A distorted reality, in a sense—but not in a bad, distorted way.”
Orian and I both nod along, looking at the piece. It’s the conservation area, capturing one of the many little waterfalls. I think it’s actually from the first time that I watched him from the shadows.
There are darker shades at the corners of the canvas, and I can’t help but ask, “Why the darkness at the edges?”
His cheeks seem to gain warmth at my question, his eyes sparkling as they beam into mine. “I’m glad you noticed. It’s because while I was sketching out this piece, I felt like I was being watched by something.”
“Howodd,” Orian remarks, tapping his chin.
Oh, he’s earning a smack for that one later.
Carsons nods. “Yeah, I’ve felt it every time I’ve been in the forest, actually.”
Before Orian can say anything else stupid, I redirect the conversation. “What’s your favorite piece here?”
A different type of light enters his eyes, one that sets something deep inside of me on fire. Maybe it’s a darkness seeping into his deceivingly sweet eyes, rather than light.
“Over here—I haven’t unveiled it yet.” He quickly spins on his heel, walking toward the fountain.
We walk through the crowd, attention gathering at his brisk movement toward a blanketed canvas displayed nearthe event’s perimeter. Orian and I stand back from him, at the front of the crowd that has migrated over.
“This is my best creation yet, a perfect representation of everything I’ve been searching for.” Carson’s fingers grip the edge of the satin sheet, and his eyes scan over the people before landing on me. “I used to only paint in bright colors, but I’m beginning to find the beauty in darker ones and shades of gray.”
He pulls the sheet away, and instantly I feel as if time stops. For the first time, my tail is completely still. My feet are frozen in place, my heart is lodged in my throat, and my eyes can’t believe what they see.
Because what I see is…my eyes.
He paintedmy eyes.
At least, I think he did. The shade is exactly the same as mine, captured perfectly, though he’s dotted them with sparkles that I don’t believe arereallythere.
The eyes—my eyes—are surrounded by gray smoke nearly identical to the shade of my skin. He really got everything so accurate after only a second of seeing them? Just how good is his memory?
Orian’s tail whips the back of my leg, drawing me from being lost in the painting.
The crowdoohsandaahsaround us, but Carson’s gaze is locked onto me, his cheeks rosy. “They’re easy to get lost in, huh?”
I open my mouth to say something as I try—and fail—to shake my head, but nothing comes out. All I can do is cross my arms in front of me, my gaze alternating between him and the painting.
“You’re very talented,” I choke out, even though it’s a clear truth.
“What was the inspiration?” Orian pipes up, asking a question that makes me both thankful and want to punch him.
Carson doesn’t hesitate even for a second as he answers, looking back and forth between the two of us. “These are the eyes I saw watching me from the shadows of the conservation area. All I hope is that I did them justice.”
Someone in the crowd shouts out, “How much for that one?”
Before he can answer, the crowd shuffles forward, pulling his focus from me. A hand slides up my arm, pulling me away from the painting. My eyes stay glued to it as long as possible, before heads block my view and I’m forced to look ahead to where I’m being led.
To my surprise, it’s Raya guiding me from the chaos. Arman and Orian are ahead of us, but I can’t focus on if they’re getting along or not; there are more pressing matters at hand.
Carson definitely saw me—or at least my eyes—in the forest.
What am I going to do? He doesn’t seem dumb, so either he’s already pieced it together, or is going to. What are my options?
I can deny it if he brings it up. I could play stupid, or simply gaslight him. Actually…I think those are my only options. What else is there? Admit it and have him get me arrested for stalking? Not happening.
