Renaissance Moon

Chapter 4

Atticus and I ordered the usual American breakfast—pancakes, bacon, toast, and eggs. While waiting for food, my feet keep on tapping, feeling uneasy. My heart beats fast, not knowing why.

“Are you okay?” Atticus asks, reading my mind.

“Umm… yes” I answered shortly.

“I told you yesterday that the eyes of a painter are like the eyes of a psychologist. I know you feel uncomfortable being here. But why?” Atticus asks with a serious face. His voice is so deep, it made me gulp.

“I just… I thought you were drunk last night, that’s why you… you know… did that… to me” I tried to explain, even though I was stuttering. My palms are sweating and I can hear my heartbeat. I think I’m losing oxygen in my mind.

“I was not that drunk last night. I’m in a perfect state of mind. You were drunk though. So, I think I should have the assumption that you just did what you did last night due to alcohol. Let me ask you, Luna… Did you just do those last night because you were drunk?” he asks with his eyes, looking sharply at me, waiting for my answer.

“Actually, yes. It was alcohol” I answered honestly, looking down, playing with my emerald ring. I feel shy and embarrassed. I can remember in my mind how I lost my sanity while I danced in front of him and was so sexy and wild. I hope he doesn’t think I’m that type of woman.

“I can already guess that. I know you’re a shy type. Let alone, you were a virgin and I was your first” he said calmly, but my jaw dropped. I looked around to see if anyone heard what he said. Gosh, I wish I had been swallowed by the ground at that moment.

Atticus noticed my reaction and chuckled softly, “Relax, Luna. No one heard what I said. And there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Being a virgin is a normal thing. I’m actually honored that you chose me to be your first.” He took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “But I hope that what happened last night won’t change anything between us. I want to get to know you more, Luna. Not just in that way,” he added with a smile.

That gave me some relief and I gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Atticus. And no, it won’t change anything. I’d like to get to know you more too.”

As we continued with our breakfast, we talked about our hobbies, interests, and our families. It was surprising to learn that we have a lot in common despite our different professions. I’m actually surprised that I’m opening up to him and feeling comfortable in his presence. The awkwardness I felt earlier disappeared and now, well, I feel better.

After we finished eating, Atticus walked me back to the office and before we parted ways, he gave me a gentle hug and whispered in my ear, “I had a great time with you, Luna. Can we do this again sometime?”

Damn! What was that? I can feel my heart flutter and my cheeks flush. “Yes, I’d like that,” I replied with a smile. As I watch him walk away, I’m so excited about the possibility of something more with the one and only, Atticus Wyatt.

As I walked towards the elevator to go back to my office, Vicky's words kept on echoing in my mind. "How's the date with Atticus? Is he amazing?" Gosh, I smile at the thought of our brunch earlier. For sure, Atticus is charming and easy to talk to, and he even made me laugh a few times.

But still, I’m actually confused and uncertain about what’s really happening. It feels so fast. What happened between us last night? Was it just because of the alcohol, or was there something more? I can’t deny that I’m actually attracted to him, but I seriously don’t want to ruin our professional relationship by getting involved romantically.

As the elevator doors opened, I stepped inside and pressed the button for my floor. What time is it now? I’ll be busy catching up with my work. I take a deep breath and try to clear my thoughts. I need to focus on work now and leave my personal feelings aside. The elevator doors opened and I got out and looked at the glass window.

But then, I saw Atticus standing outside, on the street. I felt a sudden shiver down my spine. His intense gaze makes me feel uneasy, and for a moment, I feel like he’s watching my every move. What is he doing out there? I tried to ignore it and keep walking toward my office, but I still kept feeling his stare. Was he addicted to me? That’s weird.

I had this feeling that I really wanted to know about him, so I went to the art department and looked for Atticus' portfolio.

“Hi! Where can I find the portfolios of the painters?” I asked one of the staff and he pointed me to a shelf at the back of the room. There were three shelves with some portfolios, but the good thing was, they were in alphabetical order. While walking towards the shelf, I caught a glimpse of Atticus' artwork on the walls and they were mesmerizing, so I stopped and admired them for a moment.

After a while, I delved into the portfolios and, finally, I found his portfolio and opened it eagerly. The first piece I saw was a painting of a woman with a hauntingly beautiful face. Creepily pretty. She had long, flowing hair that seemed to be made of fire. Her eyes were piercing and seemed to look straight through me. I feel a little uneasy, as if the painting had a life of its own.

I flipped through the pages and saw more of Atticus' artwork. They were all amazing and unique in their own way. Some were colorful and vibrant while others were dark and moody. But there was one thing that tied them all together - they all had a certain depth and emotion that made me feel like I’m looking at a piece of the artist's soul.

I couldn’t believe that this was the same person who I had just had brunch with. He seemed so different in person, almost normal. But as I look at his paintings, I realize that there was something dark and mysterious about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Hmm… this feels weird.

The paintings of women in Renaissance art were not just slim and slender, but also include many curvy and chubby figures like mine. It was reassuring to see that beauty standards have changed over time and that there was a place for women like me in art.

As I look through the paintings, I notice how much detail and emotion Atticus put into each piece. It was as if the women in his paintings were alive, their eyes staring right at me. I felt a connection with them, as if they understood my insecurities and struggles.

“Who are these women though? Did she use a picture or a real person while painting this?” I asked myself.

But then my thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. s**t. I quickly closed the portfolio and tried to compose myself as Atticus walked in. He smiled at me, but there was something unsettling about the way he looked at me. It was as if he was looking right through me, studying every inch of my body. Why is he even here?

"Did you find anything interesting?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I nodded, not wanting to say too much. I didn't want to reveal how much his paintings had affected me.

"Good," he said, still staring at me. "I have some more paintings in my studio. Would you like to come to see them?"

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know if I should accept or not, but something in his eyes made me feel like I had no choice. I reluctantly nodded, feeling uneasy about where this was going.

As I finished my work for the day, I walked towards the elevator when Atticus suddenly appeared in front of me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

"Hey, Luna. How was your day at work?" he asked, looking at me with those piercing hazel eyes.

"It was fine. How about yours?" I replied, trying to act casual even though my heart was racing.

"It was alright. But I was really looking forward to seeing you again," he said, giving me a charming smile.

I blushed and looked down at my feet, feeling a bit shy. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"I was hoping we could go back to my apartment and I can show you some of my paintings. Maybe we can talk about art, or anything else that interests you," he said, still smiling at me.

I hesitated for a moment, but the thought of seeing his artwork up close was too tempting to resist. "Okay, let's go," I said, following him to the exit of the building.

We walked for a few blocks until we arrived at his apartment. Am I doing the right thing? As soon as we entered, I was immediately struck by the smell of oil paint and turpentine. The place was cluttered with canvases, paintbrushes, and other art supplies, but I could see that everything was organized in its own way.

"Wow, you have a lot of paintings here," I commented, walking over to one of the canvases to take a closer look.

Atticus joined me, standing close to me and pointing out the different techniques he had used. Well, I could say, I was really impressed by his knowledge and passion for art, and I found myself getting lost in the intricate details of each piece.

As the minutes wore on, we talked about everything from our favorite painters to our personal philosophies on life. I have this strong connection with Atticus, and I must admit, I was drawn to him.

Atticus noticed my fascination and smiled as he observed me. "I paint what I see. What I feel. What I imagine," he said, as if reading my thoughts.

"It's amazing," I said, still in awe of his work.

"I have a request," Atticus suddenly said, interrupting my thoughts. "I want to paint you. You have a unique beauty that I want to capture on canvas."

I was taken aback by his request. "Me? Are you sure?" I asked, feeling a bit self-conscious. My heart was racing again and I’m not sure what’s really happening here.

"Yes, you. You have the perfect curves and features that I need for my next painting," Atticus said confidently with a smirk on his face.

I felt flattered by his words, but I was confused. "I don't know if I can do it. I've never posed for a painting before," I said, feeling a bit nervous.

Atticus sensed my hesitation and said, "You don't have to worry. I'll make sure you're comfortable and I won't do anything that you're not comfortable with. It's just me, you, and my canvas."

I thought about it for a moment while I stayed quiet, looking at the floor. I realized that it could be an interesting experience to be a model on a painted canvas. It’s not every day that I can have this opportunity, right? I nodded my head, smiling. "Okay, I'll do it," I finally said, feeling a bit excited.

“That’s great… Come” Atticus smiled and led me to his painting room. I walked slowly, still looking around. As we entered, I saw a large canvas on an easel and various art supplies scattered around the room. There was a red silk robe on the desk and Atticus took it and handed it to me. “Can you wear this instead?” he asked and my hand shook as I received the robe. Do I have to undress and wear this robe? I wasn’t sure but I went to a room and undressed, leaving my underwear and bra on. I put on the red robe and I felt weird actually. It feels like I’m a lingerie model.

I got back to where Atticus was and he started to set up the painting supplies.

“I’m here,” I said and when his eyes landed on me, his jaw dropped in shock. Once more, I saw the burning lust and admiration in his eyes.

"Now, let's begin," he said as he stared at me and my face turned red.

"Um, sure. What kind of painting?" I asked nervously.

"Just a portrait, maybe. Just your upper body," he replied, studying me again.

I hesitated for a moment, holding the robe, making sure my body stayed hidden. Then, I agreed. "Okay, I'll do it."

Atticus smiled at me and continued working on the sketch. I watched him in silence, feeling the tension between us growing stronger by the minute. Was there something more than just a painting that he wanted from me?

But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment. I was excited to see what kind of portrait Atticus would create of me.