Feel your heartbeat

Why must you be so stubborn?

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... The next evening ...

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Since she was ten years old, Ana had two passions in her life: Art and taking photos. On her ninth birthday, she received a canvas, oil paint, paint brushes and an easel from her mom as a birthday gift. When she turned ten years old, her father gave Ana a camera on her birthday. She loved doing both things, never able to choose between the two. She became a professional photographer; however Ana never gave up on her artistry. So, she painted or drew anywhere and whenever she had the time to do so. In her back pack, she always carried her tools and sketchbook and drew the second she felt inspired.

The moment Ana felt inspired, she completely disappeared in a bubble, in her own world— her fantasy, not being able to resist it, while she shut everything around her out in the process. When in that bubble, no one and nothing could disturb her.

It was late in the evening, when Ana woke up, having the wonderful urge to draw. At this very moment inspiration hit her full on. It amazed her, wondering where that urge came from, because lately she had lost her inspiration to paint or draw.

As she shifted on the bed, Ana attempted to be very quiet, because she didn't want to wake up her temporarily housemate. He had been specific about her not moving too much, only doing so when it absolutely was necessary. She didn't like being ordered around, but she knew that he was right. And from his actions up until now, Ana knew that he was the kind of man who took things seriously, especially her injuries. She grabbed the crutch the gray-eyed man had given her, and walked carefully out of the bedroom. With her sketchbook, and pencils in one hand, she walked quietly with the crutch towards the living room. As she took a seat in the old, but comfortable chair, Ana scanned the place with her eyes in search of something to draw.

There wasn't much that could fuel her inspiration more, but then her blue eyes landed on Christian. He was peacefully sleeping on the large, comfortable couch.

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*** Flashback ***

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Ana was watching Christian, as he ate the cinnamon rolls that were on his plate.

"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked, as he took a huge bite of his breakfast.

She shook her head, and drank her tea instead." No, I'm not hungry." Ana lied, but then at that exact moment her stomach growled.

He looked at her, and asked. "You don't like cinnamon rolls?"

"It's not exactly that I don't like it... let's say it doesn't like me." Ana replied.

"So, what does that mean exactly?" he asked, and furrowed his brows." Are you allergic?"

Ana didn't want to explain, so she lied once more." Yes, I'm allergic."

"OK, I'll go to the diner and get you something else to eat, when I'm done." He commented, and went on having his breakfast.

It was then, when she realized that she didn't know anything about the man. Ana decided then to begin with something small, because he looked like the brooding type, quiet, not very talkative.

"So... my full name is Anastasia Steele. What's your full name, Christian?" she asked, her blue eyes fixed on him.

The man instantly stopped eating, and stared at Ana. She saw how he clenched his jaw, and noticed how his body language had changed. When he was busy eating, he looked relaxed, but now it was all tense.