Rightfully His

29.

All rights reserved...@brightlights101

Day 8 out of 14.

Andrea was doing the same thing she's done for the last few days, binge watch shows and movies to surpass an endless amount of time that she had. But that still wasn't enough to keep her distracted and satisfied. And since she can't go to the restaurant, she did the next best thing and went to her painting room, which her mother still believes is a s*x dungeon.

She peels the curtains open, raises her blinds and cracks her window open. She turns on her radio and plays opera music. She retrieves all of the brushes and paints she needed, placing them off to the side as she put a blank canvas on her easel.

It didn't take her long before she knew what she was painting. It resembled her frustration, sadness and pain but also her hopes and dreams. There was nothing more therapeutic than a stiff back, brittle and painful wrists and a cramp in her right leg that can ease here wandering mind.

She hadn't realized how many hours she had spent in her room before she could hear footsteps coming down the hallway. Instantly she went into fight or flight mode. She cursed at herself for letting this happen. She was always so cautious. And now, here she was, trying to figure out what to do so he wouldn't see what this room was used for and what laid inside it.

Her mind completely flew out the window and she did the next best thing. She flies to the door, pushing it close in a desperate attempt. She'd stay in there all night if she had to. But a large foot wedges itself between the door and frame.

"Andrea," his voice calls from behind. "What are you doing?"

"Uhh," she panics. "Go away. I'll be right out."

"What are you hiding?"

"It's nothing," she relies on her body weight to keep the store secure. "Just please go away."

It didn't take much force before he started pushing his way in. He knew someday he would see what she's been hiding and he didn't want to wait forever. There were times where he wanted to pick the lock but refrained from doing so. But now he was more curious than ever.

Better to face your fears now or be completely consumed by it.

"Matteo," she pouts, backing away in front of the freshly painted canvas.

He stood in front of her, looking around at all the canvases that laid around, stacked on top of each other.

"This is what you do all day?" He tries to walk around the clutter.

She remains silent, wringing her fingers together nervously. While internally she was screaming to tell him to leave. Her whole body was screaming to run and hide for eternity.

"Why do you hide them?" He asks, picking up a painting that she finished awhile ago of a young woman and her child running through a meadow in sundresses and a blue sky.

"I asked a question," he presses. "Why?"

Taking in a big breath she timidly mutters, "I don't think they're good enough."

He sifts through the others, completely mesmerized by what he's seeing. He's never been more impressed. Then something catches his eye. It was of a familiar tattoo that he knows all to well...because it was his.

As he went to reach for it, Andrea leaped into action.

"No! Not that one," he holds out his arm to keep her back.

With the painting completely out for display, she steps back. Her heart began to beat with force. Her hands became clammy. She had to take a seat on her stool or she would've collapsed.