Forgive me for each halting line

Ⅷ

The painting is one of the best ones Kaveh has ever made, if he says so himself. He's never painted his other clients this well, that's for sure.

In the painting, the Lord sits within a garden, bathed by golden sunlight, surrounded by vines, ferns and all sorts of different flowers within a litany of vibrant colors. He looks regal as he stares down at the leather-backed book within his hands, a magnetic look in his bright, crystalline eyes that once one meets them, they'd find it impossible to look away.

Deft paint strokes captured the feathery softness of the silver hair, and, if one looks closely, they might notice the healthy pink flush dusting his cheeks, or the subtle smile playing on his lips.

Perhaps, if one looks long enough, they might be able to trick themselves into believing that the subject trapped within the confines of the canvas is very much alive.

"It's quite nice." Alhaitham says. His words themselves don't convey enthusiasm, but there's a look in his eye that speaks for itself; it is a look that tells Kaveh that the Alpha found the painting to be more than just 'nice'.

The blond sighs loudly. "Given that you're the worst subject I've ever had, I'd say it's quite amazing, even."

"Is that so?" The Alpha tilts his head in his senior's direction, a small smile playing on his lips; it's not unlike the one depicted in the painting they were standing in front of.

"Absolutely." Kaveh says with a huff, planting a hand on his hip. "It is absolutely so."

Alhaitham chuckles softly. "So, you wouldn't be open to a second commission?"

The omega gapes at him. "What?!"

"Twice the pay–your debts included, plus," Alhaitham waits a beat for extra emphasis, "the honor of becoming my mate. Only on arrival, of course."

"The honor of being your mate? Please. Don't make me laugh." Kaveh glares at Alhaitham from the corner of his eyes, "And to spend a lifetime with you? I'd sooner chew my leg off."

"Oh really?" Alhaitham drawls, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His lips twitch like he's trying not to smile, and Kaveh needs to cover his own laughter with a cough. "Mating bonds are reserved for the fourth painting—at least."

"So that's a yes?"

"We'll see, Haitham."

Kaveh turns his gaze to the painting once more. Perhaps, if one looks long enough, they might be able to see the love the artist felt for the subject trapped within the confines of the canvas.