❝Your secret is a painting?❞ I took a few cautious steps; the hairs on my arms stood on end.
❝Not just any painting.❞ Dorian approached the easel, shadows on his face as he touched the cloth protecting it. ❝It's a dark object, the manifestation of m...
I awoke with a start, sitting up in terror as I felt the empty side of the bed. I couldn't believe it. Dorian was gone. He was really dead...
My breath stuttered when I glanced across the apartment, spotting a shirtless Dorian making his way from the kitchen.
"Omelette?" He sat down on the bed, extending a delicious-looking plate sprinkled with chives and parsley.
Ignoring the food, I held my heart in relief. Was I still dreaming? I poked his nose, just to be sure I wasn't. "How?"
He shrugged, setting the plate on the bedside table. "I'm as lost as you."
"Maybe she didn't burn the painting after all."
"She burned it. When Opal sets her mind to something there's no stopping her."
"Okay. So... If the painting's destroyed and you're still alive, what does this mean? Is the curse finally broken?"
"If only." Dorian reached for the plate and grabbed the knife. He dragged the blade across his skin, opening a shallow wound on his palm. When he raised his hand, the cut had already healed.
"Shit."
"My thoughts exactly."
"Okay. Well. The world hasn't ended--yet. We'll figure this out." I glanced at the clock." But first I have to go to class," I wrapped the sheet around me and slid from the bed. "And you have to stay put."
"Nope!" I held up my finger when Dorian tried to argue. "You need to stay hidden. This could be our one chance to save you from Opal. If she believes you're dead then you need to stay out of sight. At least until she leaves town."
"I suppose you're right."
"Always."
"And are we going to talk about last night? We both thought I was dying. It's fair to assume certain things only transpired for that reason."
I scoffed. "Assumptions are for assholes. What happened last night... happened. It doesn't have to mean anything."
"Amelia--"
"There's cable and Internet and ice cream," I offered, walking backwards to the shower. "If something goes wrong and you feel like you're going to spontaneously combust or something, call me. I'll be back as soon as I can."
I stepped in the shower; the curtains weren't nearly as sheer as my disappointment. Clearly, last night had only happened because we thought he was dying. There was nothing between us, and maybe that was for the best.
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While striding across campus to the castle-like University ahead, I received a phone call from my sister.
"Amelia, what the hell have you done this time?"
I switched the phone to my other ear, hoisting my backpack higher on my shoulder. "Morning to you too, little sis."
"Mom and Jeff were up arguing all last night and I'm pretty sure it had something to do with you--as usual. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Y'know, so you could screw things up even more."
