Marked

Chapter 3: Painting Pictures

♡...Lunae...♡

For some reason, when Ashton asked me to stay through the week, I agreed. Every fiber of my being is telling me to once again demand him take me home and never contact me again, but the heart wants…

"I feel like we need to set rules before this whole thing…" I firmly expect him to push back. But he hadn't heard the rules yet.

"Sure, whatever you deem fit!"

Well, that was easier than I expected. "First… if I'm going to stay… I will likely ask more questions… you can not lie to me. And just so we're clear, omitting the truth is also a lie!" He nods. "Secondly… I think it would be best if we did not touch. No kissing, no hugging, no holding hands... No touching. At all," again he nods, "Which means I will need to be in another room…."

"No…" he says with his face scrunched up. I can see in his eyes that angry… they start to flicker, but I don't back down.

"Fine. Then I-"

"No!" He said louder and with more force than I would have liked. Fear spread through me as I closed my eyes, unable to find my courage. "I mean, you can stay in my room… I will stay somewhere else."

"Oh."

"Anything else," his eyes flashed amber, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You can't… I would prefer it if you didn't… you know…” I was hesitant to drop the next rule because I could already see the color of his eyes. "You can't-"

"I promise I will not let him emerge… unless you ask me to." He lowered his head.

"Let him emerge?" See, this was the concerning part for me. Words like "let," "him," and "emerge," made me feel like I was talking to someone with MPD. Like he could not control when the animal took over… I didn't like that.

"Technically, we're two halves of the same whole because he… my wolf is always with me."

So now I know that just like MPD (Multiple personality Disorder) cases, the two "halves" could communicate with others. That allows the human side to take advantage of all the wolf's heightened senses and accelerate healing. "Fascinating." I had said sarcastically, but I meant it.

I had always been facinated with the supernatural. 90% of the apps in my phone were reading apps full of these types of stories. But I downloaded them thinking that that's all they were.

Stories.

"I told you, no more lies… so I need to tell you something…" Already, I wanted to take back my choice and run for the hills. "Better yet, let me paint you a picture…?"

He had barely a week, and he wanted to paint? "Ok."

He grabbed my hand and started to pull me in his desired direction, but I cleared my throat and jerked it back. "No. Touching." But when I wasn't holding his hand, I wanted to hold it again.

"Right… sorry, I forgot." He ran his hands through his hair. "Follow me?" He questioned, and I nodded my answer.

He walked in slow strides and led me back to the house's entrance, where the spiral stairs were. I glanced at the door, wondering if I should just take my chances and escape. I mean, I could run and get help. But would he chase me? And if he chased me and caught me, would he e-

"Loo…" his voice pulled me from my thoughts. He extended his arm, beckoning me up the stairs.

Step by step, I climbed right past him quickly enough so that he was a few steps behind but slow enough to admire the new view of the chandelier.

"Wow," I find myself even more amazed at its beauty, and I turn to Ashton to express my thoughts, but I'm caught off guard at the way the crystals create a rainbow within his eyes. My heart skips beats as we stand there staring at one another. He smiles, and then I avert my eyes, hoping I hadn't staired as long as I thought I had.

Once he was by my side, I fell back so that he would lead the way. I felt like I was at a museum. There was art tastefully hung on the wall. Grand vases are displayed in multiple corners. Large windows adorned with deep red curtains… simply marvelous.

"So this is my art room." He says before opening the door. It was dark and quiet. There were smells that I couldn't quite place that I didn't quite like.

"Close your eyes… it will help with the adjustment." I did as I was told, and then, with a click, I knew the light was on.

I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. There were large white sheets everywhere. The smells I now realized were the various art supplies haphazardly placed around the room. "This looks like a scene from Dexter." my cheeks heated up, knowing he would understand the reference. "No offense." I had subconsciously compared him to a murderer.

He didn't say anything. He just walked over to the first sheet and pulled it off with a woosh before dropping it on the ground before walking over to the next sheet and repeating the process. The paintings were mostly simple. Some were only lines of color… I was no art critic, but if this was the type of picture he wanted to paint me… I may need one.

"I know they don't seem like much, but each of these is very significant to me… to us." I walked over to each of them, still trying to pull a hint of meaning out of them. In the center of the room, there was one sheet left… much larger than the others that he had left covered.

"I'm not sure what I'm looking at…" I admit that my embarrassment grew with each word.

"That's ok. Hopefully, this one will help." He looked at me and then the last covered painting, "Go on," he offered.

I reached down and grabbed the corner of the sheet and slowly pulled it off the painting, finding myself unable to let it go once it was revealed. "I call it…. I loved you first."

Still unable to drop the sheet, I folded my arms around it, allowing my eyes to explore every part of the picture. There was red… as deep as the curtains on the windows outside in the hall. There was blue, white, and gold… "My first day of school." My eyes didn't leave the picture. It was me… larger than life in pure Bob Ross fashion… It wasn't a portrait, but it was definitely me.

"You see, each of these is significant… but none as much as this one." And then he was behind me… close enough so that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. "I told you that I knew you were my mate after my 17th birthday, and that was true… but this," he reached up and traced the brush strokes with his fingers, "... This is the day I fell in love with you." And again, there were tears in my eyes.

Even though I had set the "no touching" rule, I couldn't help but reach out and grab his hands as he retracted his process. I blinked, and the tears fell halfway down my cheek before his thumb rubbed them away. "I'm sorry… for touching."

"It's ok." I smiled.

He held out his hand, and I did hesitate, but I grabbed it, and he began to show me around the room again, this time explaining the meaning of each and every color I was looking at. More than once did tears fall, and more than once did he wipe them away. So I started thinking…

Maybe I could forgive him.

**********

♤...Ashton...♤

".... Let me paint you a picture…" I didn't know if it would work, but I hoped it would. I was planning on saving this speech for something bigger, like her wedding proposal, but if I didn't do it now, then I would never get to propose!

After grabbing her hand only to have it jerked away from me, I decided following the leader was the best approach, so I led the way until we reached the staircase. Not having her hand in mine… it was lonely. I took two steps and realized she was not behind me.

When I turned, she stood still, staring at the front door. "She's gonna run." I knew that if she did, that would be it. I would have no choice but to endure the pain of a broken bond, but then she turned back towards me and walked up the stairs past me as quickly as she could. Before reaching the top, her pace slowed as she became mesmerized by the chandelier once more.

“Wow.” She said in a voice so low that any mere human might not have noticed. When she turned around to face me, I could not help but smile. The way the lights danced upon her face made her look like some otherworldly being… Simply majestic. I offered a smile, but it was not returned. Instead, she looked at her feet on the floor and then continued up the steps, and then stopped at the top to wait for me.

I stepped past her just enough to still feel her warmth as I showed her the way. I could feel her excitement as she admired the pieces of art that adorned the hall. I had made these decisions alone, and knowing she approved made me swell inside.

Once we had reached the door of my art room, I pushed her in. I thought about what I was doing and almost changed my mind. This room is one of my most intimate places… no one other than me has ever stepped foot in it since I had claimed it many years ago. The familiar smells of the paint immediately calmed my nerves. I took a deep breath and looked around the room… I missed it.

My stomach was sickened when I no longer felt the familiar warmth coming from Loo. I turned to see her squinting in the dark. How stupid of me to lead her to a dark room without a source of light. I could see everything, of course… but she could not. I felt for the light switch, “Close your eyes. It will help with the adjustment."

When she opened her eyes and looked around, they grew wide and concerned. "This looks like a scene from Dexter." I watched as her face became red. "No offense." And there was none taken. In some sense, she was right. If someone had walked into this room without context and saw random sheets over hidden objects… yeah. It’s weird. But I knew that her outlook would change once she saw what was under the sheets.

Starting with the one closest to me, I walked around the room and, pulled the sheets and the paintings, and let them fall to the ground until my covered canvases were all exposed. At first, I did not say anything. I just wanted to gauge her thoughts before explaining.

She looked at one, puzzled at the gallery before her, And I just smiled to myself, knowing that she would be able to see everything once she could see… everything.

"I know they don't seem like much, but each of these is very significant to me… to us." I had intentionally left one picture covered in the center of the room and stood by it while she walked around to look at all of the others.

Every so often, she would stop in front of one and turn her head to see it from a different vantage point. At others, she would reach out to touch them but pull her hand back just before she would. Once again, her face went red before she announced, "I'm not sure what I'm looking at…"

"That's ok, hopefully, this one will help." Finally, she had reached me in the center of the room where the last sacred remained, "Go on..”

She looked from me and the sheet, and I nodded, letting her know that this was hers to reveal. I followed her hand to the corner of the picture and watched as her fingers cautiously gripped the fabric before slowly pulling it off. For a moment, I thought I would implode right there. It had been so long since I had looked at it that I had forgotten just how much emotion had gone into it. Without looking at her face, I told her the name of the work. "I call it…. I loved you first."

She had stopped breathing just for a moment. "My first day of school." She said, still looking at the portrait.

My heart swelled with pride as I finally looked at her face to see the wonder in her eyes as she clutched the sheet she had just removed. "You see, each and every one of these is significant… but none as much as this one.” I walked around the room remembering how I would come home almost every day so consumed with thoughts of love that they literally kept me awake at night, and the only way to bear it was to come here and let it out.

"I told you that I knew you were my mate after my 17th birthday, and that was true… but this," I stood behind her close and reached past her to feel the strokes with my fingers again"... This is the day I fell in love with you." She took her hand and placed it on top of mine, sending sparks through my body that were enough to start a fire.

She turned to face me, and as much as I wanted to devour her mouth, I did not. I just kept explaining.

"My first thought was man… who is this girl… Why does the mere sight of her make my heart race? Why do I find myself wanting to always be near her." I ran my hands through my head crazily and watched as a tear formed in the corner of her eye and silently fell down her cheek. Instinctually, I brushed it away with my thumb, and she leaned into it… "I'm sorry… for touching," I said, pulling my hand away, not wanting to cross any lines.

"It's ok." She smiled, and I melted.

“May I?” I held out my hand, afraid she would not take it, but she did. Hand in hand, I took her to each painting and told her what they all meant, why, and when I had painted them. The tears would fall, and I would wipe them away each time.