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“Hmm. I guess it does. Are you going to finish it?” She examines the piece again.
“Eventually,” the robotic voice says for me again.
“Are you working on something else then? It looks like this one is done?” She wanders over to the painting of her, hanging proudly on the wall.
I want the world to see what I've done with her. I've painted her in dark colors where she feels the safest—in her dreams.
“It's called In Her Dreams. It's done,” my phone says again.
My cheeks heat when her knowing eyes find mine.
“It's pretty. Any inspiration?”
Now she's just being a brat and taunting me because she knows.
I’ll never tell her that Arrow brings me pictures back from his adventures to her room. And she’ll never know I keep a drawer of them for inspiration.
I snort. “None at all.”
She rolls her eyes, moving on toward the canvas I've covered for the day. It sits in the middle of my room, ready to be finished. I swallow hard when she walks around it like a shark sniffing out the blood in the water.
“And this one?”
“Not finished yet,” the voice says in an even tone.
My heart rate skyrockets when she raises a brow, pulling at the protective sheet hiding it.
“Not yet,” the voice says again, not giving way to the panic roaring inside me.
She can't see this piece yet. It's not ready for her eyes, and it's depicting something I want to forever memorialize for my own.
“What if I want a peek?” she asks, with a small grin pulling at the edge of her lips.
This girl.
I inhale deeply, rooting myself in the moment. Her lips part when she stares up at me, batting her long eyelashes. All the moisture in my mouth evaporates when I contemplate revealing to her what I've done.
Will she appreciate it? Find it vile that I've captured such an intimate moment?
Fuck.
I guess I'm about to find out because I’m having a hard time saying no to her.
“You really want a peek?” I swallow hard, shoving my phone into my pocket.
Slowly, I make my way toward her, standing in front of my masked piece, knowing what lies beneath the tarp.
“Only if you want to show me,” she whispers, peeking up at me and examining my eyes.
I shrug, heat taking over my cheeks.
“Then I want to see if you want to show me. You've got a real talent, Shepp. It shouldn't be hidden from anyone.”
This piece should. It shouldn't see the light of day. Especially not to strangers. But I couldn't get it out of my fucking head. The more I sat on the idea, the more it begged to be brought to life.
My fingers twitched. My colors called to me. I couldn't sleep. All I wanted to do was paint the scene tattooed on my mind, forever capturing her.
So, I gave into the feeling, letting it take me over.
