As Long as Somebody Loves You

Chapter Eight

"Can you please tilt your head to the side, almost like you're looking back at me?" He requested, paintbrush dabbing the white paint. I did so, trusting his instruction. My heart was thumping slightly, and even though I continued to deny it, thoughts of whether or not I should reveal myself were floating in and out of my head. I wanted him to know. I wanted to tell him that he was looking at the one and only Grand High witch, but at the same time, I had the fear of losing him. UGH! What was wrong with me?! The door was locked sure, but if I didn't go about this the right way, Hades knows what would've happened. "Your eyes are lovely." He smiled, "Whenever I look in them it's as if they're glistening with a shade of purple."

I smiled back slightly at his obliviousness, feeling that same feeling I'd get after successfully disposing of a child. "Thank you." I sneered, "Do all artists have this same... passion of yours?" I was curious to know what obligated humans to create such useless imagery. "Mostly, yes." He told me, looking back at my face for reference as his paintbrush continued to drag against the canvas. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I could tell he was concentrated. 

"We're all born with a passion for art. My mother always used to tell me it starts when we're young, and that every child is an artist. The hard part is to stay an artist when you grow up."

 When he mentioned children, I nearly gagged. Why did he have to say it? "I doubt that." I replied sharply, correcting him. He tilted his head, dabbing some more paint on his brush, "Why is that? When you were a child, didn't you ever have an everlasting imagination?" He questioned me. That's when I paused. Once again he had asked me something that was impossible to answer without lying. Witches aren't born like humans.  We don't have childhoods. We don't have parents or family as I've mentioned before. When a witch is brought into the world it's usually when a catastrophe has befallen upon the earth. Some witches were created during the bubonic plague while others originated from physical disasters like earthquakes or hail storms. And sometimes, they just popped out of mishaps like car crashes. As for me, I was the very first witch. I was the first to be hatched out of the icy glaciers of Norway all those hundred years ago. "I don't remember being a child. Even if I were one ," I swallowed hard, shivering at the thought, "I wouldn't want to remember." Demetri stared at me, almost... saddened by what I had said. 

"I'm sorry. I almost forgot about what you told me earlier... about not having a close family." Pity clouded his voice, but rather than irritating me, it saddened me. I didn't want him to feel this way. "Why is family so important? Wouldn't life be easier alone with nobody telling you how to live? Wouldn't it be easier with nobody holding you back? I have trouble understanding your purpose." I stated as he dried his brush on a nearby napkin. "Well," He began, still puzzled by my words. "Family isn't something that hold you back. A good family supports you. As long as there's love, that's all that matters."

"I don't know what love is." I confessed. "Then what made you kiss me today?" He stopped painting for a moment, gazing at me. I froze when my mind comprehended what he had asked. Why did he always make me speechless?! Why did he always force me to talk around what was really happening inside my mind. "I was hoping you could tell me. I haven't admitted this to a single soul, so consider yourself fortunate," I held back my raspy voice as much as possible, "I don't understand emotions like you do. Up until I met you, I was fine. But now, you've confused me." I explained. Demetri listened, expression transforming slightly while he picked up a wide, plastic pallet knife, dipping it into the gold paint as I spoke. "I'm angry at you for confusing me, make no mistake about that. But I am also... thrilled by you." I told him, stroking Liebchen's soft fur whilst watching Demetri's eyes look back into mine. "You're really are the strangest woman I've ever met." He told me with a grin. I could see that in his eyes he meant it as a compliment. And because of that, I smiled too.