Him or his Best Friend

𝐂𝐡. 𝟒𝟕 | 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Chase

The brush in my hand swirled with various colours, drawing her. She looked gorgeous having the sun shine like gold on her freckles and deep green eyes.

The slit in her dress raised all over her every time she tossed. Her skin turned red from the heat but looked so smooth and creamy.

I didn't want to put my hands on her until she had voluntarily done it herself, because once I got my hands on her again, I wasn't going to stop until I ruined her again. Inside, out.

It's so tempting to just take her in my arms sometimes, and have her legs spread along my thighs as I made her nervous with my words and gaze. All of that had been on hold. She wasn't the only one having dreams either.

Though, I had been having haunting dreams of her since the day I saw her. The reality was, I was the one who couldn't escape her.

Getting back to my painting, I drew her position. One of her legs was naked entirely, with the band of her panties visible. Her brunette curly hair melted onto the mat like chocolate.

Birds flew over us so beautifully as the light got dull. Time went by so fast but I had completed the painting of her. She had also completed the book shortly after, feeling exhausted by it.

"Ready to go home, Strawberry?" I smiled tenderly.

"Yes," she answered sitting up on the mat and putting her shoes back on.

I kneeled down to fold the mat and held it under my arm. Liya went forward to look at the painting. To my surprise, her eyes widened as she studied it carefully.

"Oh my God," she breathed out.

I stood back on my feet and took my place beside her, admiring my own work. She ran her hand along the painting to feel if it was real. Her fingertips shook along the canvas.

"You painted me," Liya spoke, looking at me.

"Nothing else crossed my mind," I mushed my lips together, feeling nervous that she looked at my painting.

"Not surprised," she laughed playfully with a tease.

"I'll feed this to the sharks if you act all proud for being on my mind all the time," I threatened at which she gave a sarcastic blink.

The blink which tells me she knows damn well I won't be feeding anything to the sharks. The blink is so correct and right.

"It's beautiful. No one has ever, done anything so breathtaking for me," she said, admiring the painting once again whilst I admired her.

"ya by postavil ves' mir k tvoim nogam, yesli by ty etogo pozhelala," I uttered so easily.

"I totally understood that," she scrunched her nose, wanting to know what I had just said.

"I would bring the whole world to your feet if you desired it," I translated, causing a flush of redness to rise to her cheeks and fill like a beautiful blush.

She takes the beauty away from everything around her. The goddess in her has everything around her going dull on purpose.

It's like even the nature and beauty around her knew her worth. Knows to fade against her, to make way for her so she can shine properly. Because she deserves to.

Once we get back home, I place the painting in the room with all the other paintings I have done of her over the years secretly. It was the sole room I had never allowed anyone to be in. This room was my weakness.

It was like a house of mirrors where the endless paintings of her in various forms of beauty and perfection surrounded me. A visual cortex of my brain and how in each corner of my brain, soul and heart, I find her.