Let me love you

Chapter 7

Chloe's P.O.V

I couldn't believe in my ears at the beginning but the more he spoke the more everything started making sense. Why he said I'll always find him in his room, the way he said what he studies at uni the first time we met and why he was at the art facility.

I couldn't help but be angry at his parents for doing that to him. How can you be so cruel to your child? Something that you help create. Then I felt bad for Ian. For being robbed of the light in his life. How different would things be if he wasn't raised like this?

Maybe he would have more friends. Maybe he wouldn't be as closed off and emotionless. Maybe he would have actually been smiling for once. Maybe he would laugh out loud until his stomach hurt. So many possibilities of how he could've been.

It doesn't matter now though. You can't turn back time. The only thing you can do is focused on the present and build a better future. That's what I'm going to help Ian do.

No matter what, I want him to be happy. I'm going to make sure of it.

After everything that I heard, I'm even more intrigued than before to see his art.

His source of life.

His world.

I was a bit afraid that he would say no but I was wrong.

I stand on my balcony baffled as he extends both hands towards me.

"Let me show you my world then, " he says.

I slowly lay my hands on his palms, gripping them tightly.

"Don't worry. I promise I won't let you fall."

And just as he promised he helps me hop from my balcony to his, safely. One of his hands ended up around my waist holding me tightly close to his body as the other still holds my hand.

"You okay?" He asks, unwrapping his hand slowly away from me.

"Yeah, " I whisper, swallowing loudly that was a bit terrifying.

"Come, " he motions with his hand for me to follow him.

His room is very dark and even as we enter, he doesn't open the light.

"Ian?"

"I know, " he whispers.

We need to keep our voice on the low. We don't want his parents waking up and finding me here.

Instead of opening the main big light, he opens a dimer warm glow side lamp on his desk but it was just enough amount of light for me to see his world in all its glory.

"Holy shit, " I mumble.

My eyes frantically jump from one canvas to the other. Trying to take mental pictures of it all. There must be at least 15 medium and large size canvases and around 20 small ones taking almost the entire space of his room standing all next to each other.

I move closer to them to get a better look at them. He paints mainly landscapes and just plain black figures. I can see the beach, the world from an aeroplanes window view, parks, a picnic scene, an art museum, a figure star gazing, what seems like a hiking trail one, two figures playing pool table, two figures dancing, others laying in bed, others having dinner at a restaurant and others playing in the snow, just to name a few.

Wow!

As I look around, I notice that there are no paintbrushes to be seen. How could he have painted all this without brushes?

"These are incredible Ian, " I say turning to look at him, seeing him lay on his bed looking at the ceiling.

He pats the space next to him and I join him in his bed with still enough distance between us.

My breath gets knocked out of me though, once I look at the ceiling. My jaw falls open lightly.

Hundreds of stars of all sizes fill up his entire dark blue ceiling. How did he even do that?

"How did you paint all this? I don't see any paintbrushes scatter around, " I say without taking my eyes off of his sky.

"That's because I don't use paintbrushes. I paint using my fingers. It's much more personal like that. My fingerprints are hidden within all those paintings. No one can steal those from me, " I can hear the passion in his voice as he speaks.

"You're very talented Ian. You're beautiful inside out and that's a rarity," I say whilst looking at him this time.

He turns and looks at me, his jaw clenched tightly.

He's holding something back.

"I'm neither of those things, " he says.

"In my eyes, you are, " I whisper back.

It seems like he's at loss for words. He doesn't say anything as he keeps our eye contact which a part of me is glad about.

He has very warm chocolate brown eyes like a glass of hot cocoa or steamy coffee. There's a hint of gold in them that brings a sweetness to them like caramel or honey. They look quite empty but intense as well at times.

I turn completely to my side to be more comfortable placing my hands underneath my head. A few strands of hair fall on my face as a result but before I could push them away another hand comes into view.

Ian's hand is a lot bigger than mine, and his fingertips are rough from painting I assume. He tucks them behind my ear and the feeling of his fingertips grazing my ear sends shivers down my spine for some reason.

He lets his hand rest on my head for a couple more seconds warming me up before retracting it to his stomach.

"When you want me to leave just let me know okay?" I say looking down at his bed sheets.

"And if I don't?"

His words surprise me. That's the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth.

"What?"

"If I want you to stay for a little while longer?" He says, making it more clear now.

"Then I'll stay for as long as you want me to, " I say, looking at him slightly nodding at my words.

"Ian?"

"Yeah, " he lets out a sight closing his eyes.

"I promise that I'll try to make as many of your paintings as I can become a part of your reality, " as I say that his eyes open again looking at me.

"I promise to make them all happy memories for you to hold, forever."

I smile at him and at that moment he did something I didn't think I'll see this soon on him.

He smiled back at me with tears in his.

That smile of his, I never want it to go away, and I'll make sure of it.

That's what friends are for anyway.

A/N

What do you think of Ian's world?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you again on Friday!

Feel free to comment & vote ❤️

Have a nice day/night xx

All the love - M ❤️