The Bad Boy's Muse

First drawing...

Grace POV

I peered at the address that Rohan had sent to me on w******p. It was the same as the one displayed at the front of the house. The house looked beautiful with well-trimmed bushes along the path leading to the front door. I walked nervously to the front door and pressed the doorbell. I was anxious to get this over with. I saw one of Rohan's paintings today and I marvelled at such expertise; I couldn't wait to have myself on Canvas.

I was going to ring the doorbell again when the door flung open and a dark-skinned beautiful woman who had an apron tied around her waist with a beautiful smile plastered on her face opened the door for me.

"Hello" she waved at me with a smile.

"Hi," I responded, "Please I am here to see Rohan," I told the woman.

"Rohan?" she sounded surprised as she arched her eyebrows.

I nodded my head, I was beginning to worry that I had the wrong house.

"Please come in, my dear, while I go get him", the woman ushered me in.

The whole room smelt like lavender and spring and there was no Rohan. The woman disappeared towards what I presumed was the kitchen. While I stood in the middle of the room, I was afraid to sit down.

"Grace?" Rohan spoke from the staircase, he had a sleepy smile on his face.

"Hi," I responded. "sorry, I was delayed. It was difficult to locate this place at first, but I finally did. How are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm fine and was sleeping before you came. Did you just arrive?" he was coming towards me.

"Yes, a few seconds ago, a nice woman welcomed me" I added.

"Yeah! That's Aunt Ada, my uncle's wife", Rohan said.

"Oh!" I nodded. "She's kind and beautiful, but I didn't know Indians were black," I whispered to him.

"Oh, honey," Rohan's Uncle's wife stepped out of the kitchen with a big smile on her face "I am not Indian," she chuckled "I am black, from Africa precisely,".

I lowered my head in embarrassment. I thought I heard the words whispered to Rohan were not audible. I had no idea that I had been too loud.

"My apologies, ma'am," I tried to smile "It was not my intention to talk about you in that way," I said.

"No, my dear," She let out a peal of laughter. "I am not in the least offended, my love. I just find it very hilarious that you would even think I am an Indian. Although most Indians are dark-skinned but, no where close to a black man. Where did you grow up?".

"England," I murmured "Sorry for not introducing myself earlier," I bowed my head and curtseyed uniformly "My name is Grace Wilson and I am Rohan's high schoolmate," I finished with an engaging smile.

I was disappointed when I saw her regarding me with a strange smile, as if I had just fallen from the sky.

"What's with the whole drama?" Aunt Ada gazed at me quizzically.

"Aunt," Rohan butted in, "Grace is a blue blood from England and she's not yet accustomed to the ways of the Americans. If you ask me, she doesn't know you don't curtsy when greeting her," he explained.

"What!" Aunt Ada's eyes bulged from the socket as she froze and her face lightened up in delight "Are you seriously telling me that Grace here is a proper English lady?" she asked.

"Yes," Rohan nodded while he sent me an amused look.

"Oh my God!" Aunt Ada became frantic "I need to call the girls and let them know we have royalty in the house. This is so amazing, especially for Chioma who's obsessed with princesses,".

"Well, ma'am, I am not royalty and..." I tried to warn Aunt Ada but she was already bounding to the staircase. "You've got to stop her, Rohan, before she puts ideas into the heads of the girls," I sighed. "I am not a princess,".

"I am not sure they'll grasp the difference if you tell them, anyways. So, just let go," Rohan yawned and headed to the living room where he settled on a couch. "Do you prefer to stand?" he arched an eyebrow towards me.

I didn't say a word but made my way quietly to the chair he pointed at me. "Shouldn't we get down to business?" I urged.

"Not yet," he stifled another yawn behind his hand "I just woke up and I need a moment to myself," he said.

I was about to say a word when Aunt Ada came back into the room with a young child on her hips. The girl looked like she had been doing a lot of painting as both fingers were covered in colours. When they got to the room, Aunt Ada placed her on the ground.

"Where is the princess, mummy?" the young girl queried with a frown "Are you sure it's a princess you saw? I was in the middle of a really important project, mum," the girl whined.

"For chrissakes, Chioma, not now," the mum spoke through her teeth as she proceeded to wipe the girl's hands with wipes she had peeled from the coffee table. "Do you think a princess will show up in America wearing princess clothes?" she asked.

"Why won't she?" Chioma stared at her mother as if she had developed wings. "How would people know she's a princess?".

"What if she doesn't want anyone to know that she's a princess?" Aunt Ada asked again. "Now," she turned the child towards my direction "What strikes you the most about that lady sitting there?" she asked.

"Is that the princess?" her eyes skimmed the length of my body as she whispered to her mother from the corner of her mouth.

"Didn't you notice something different about her hair?" Aunt Ada whispered "And the way she sits, the way she talks and the way she would greet you. Don't worry, she'll show you in a moment," Aunt Ada smiled at me.

I had been too immersed in the cordial relationship between mother and child. A luxury that was rare back home. Apart from my mother complaining endlessly about my poor needlework and chiding me to sit straight and not slouch. I didn't think we had anything to say to each other. We couldn't banter like Chioma and Aunt Ada.

"Grace?" Rohan's voice pierced through my train of thoughts. When I came about, I saw all eyes were fixed on me, including that of the little girl. She had a defiant look on her face as though she was just there because of her mother.

I turned towards Rohan, confused at what to do.

"Chioma," he pointed at the little girl, "Just introduced herself to you and is waiting for you to do the same," he said.

"Oh!" a small gasp escaped my lips as I stood up and faced the girl "Forgive my bad manners," I smiled warmly as I prepared myself to perform a curtsy which had worked on Aunt Ada some moments ago.

"My name is Lady Grace Wilson and I am pleased to make your acquaintance," I bowed to the child's eye level and got up slowly.

Chioma's brown eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets as she regarded me with awe. "That was awesome," she finally said as she came toward me. Her eyes filled with admiration.

"Are you truly a princess like my mom said?" she asked.

"Somewhat of a princess," I smiled at the little girl. "I am a Lady," I answered.

"Do you get to wear all those pretty gowns the princess wears and the pretty hairdo and ornaments too, like the princess?" she asked again.

"Of course," I nodded "Maybe I could dress up one day for you. I brought a lot of my dresses from back home to here only I noticed in America, you dress differently,".

"I can't wait," Chioma clapped her hand in delight. "But," her pretty face contorted into confusion "How did you come to our house? Did you get lost? Did the wind blow you here or were you cast by a terrible witch?" she whispered the last part.

I couldn't help but laugh as she gave all the descriptions because they were funny.

"I can see you read a lot of princess stories," I pulled her closer to me. "Back home, I have a sister that's like you. Her name is Antoinette and she's the most curious little thing I have ever heard," I chuckled.

"That doesn't answer my question," she pouted.

"Chioma," her mouth shouted, "That's no way to talk. Apologize immediately,".

"It's fine," I smiled at her mom. "I and Rohan are high schoolmates," I said.

"You're classmates with Rohan?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," I nodded.

"Oh," her face broke into a smile "So, both of you are dating now? Have you kissed yet?" she asked.

"Chioma Gupta?" Her mom's face contorted into horror as she rushed towards her "I think you've done more than enough for today. Go to your room now,".

"Relax, Aunt Ada," Rohan chuckled as he dragged Chioma towards him "The girl is curious and wants to know. She deserves that much,".

The distraction gave me enough time to recover from my shock. I was thrown off balance by the boldness of the girl and, what more, I was flustered by the suggestive nature of her question. I peered at Rohan who seemed to be taking it in a stride.

"Don't worry, Chioma," I struggled with the name's pronunciation, hoping I got it right "I and Rohan are not in a relationship," I said.

"Is it because he's not a prince?" there was pity on her face. "There are lots of princesses who married men who were not princes from the start. Like Rapunzel in tangled, married Flynn the thief. What's important is he's handsome and has a kind soul,".

"Alright," Aunt Ada was trying her best not to laugh as she reached for her daughter's hand and dragged her away from Rohan "I think you've done enough for today. Thank you for your advice,".

"Will I see you again?" Chioma asked over her mom's shoulders.

"Maybe," I smiled at the girl.

"Alright, I'll ask Rohan for your phone number and give you a call to remind you about the princess dress,".

I nodded and watched in amusement as her mom's hands clamped over her mouth.

"Sorry about that," Rohan's voice boomed, making me look towards him. "Chioma is the curious one and says the weirdest things. I hope she didn't cause you offence?" he asked.

"No," I shook my head. "Not in the least. I enjoyed every bit of myself."

"Alright, I think it's time to head to my studio," he stood and beckoned me to follow him. We walked towards a staircase that led to the basement of the house. Once there, I marvelled at the colour I saw everywhere.

On the walls of the basements were various pictures of sunrise, nightfall, moving cars, a city, and various portraits of people. One of them I identified as Chioma.

"You like?" his voice sounded from behind me, making me jump in fright. I didn't hear him come up.

"It's b-beautiful," I managed to say "You did all of this yourself?" I asked.

"Of course," he nodded "Most of them, I drew them when I was in India and just moved with it when I came down here. I wanted it to feel like art and so I placed a few down here,".

"A few?" I scoffed ".This is a lot,".

"Wait, till you see my room," he smiled. "Anyways, this is where you'll be sitting during the painting," he pointed towards a plush-looking cushion with hands on one side to it.

"And that," he pointed towards a corner that had curtains around it " is the changing room,".

"The changing room?" my heart began to palpitate "I can't do a naked painting," I blurted.

"I am not asking you to," He eyed me "As you know, you cannot sit for painting in your regular clothes. I have already arranged for what you'll be putting on and that's where you'll change into it and change out when you're done," he pointed to a cream satin gown draped on a chair at one side of the room.

I nodded, embarrassed by my earlier suggestion, "I'll just go and change," I murmured, and grabbed the gown before heading to the changing room.