Darkling

40| Butterfly

Chapter 40: Butterfly (Callum's POV)

I was sitting on her bed, reading. She was beside me, also reading. 

"Are you still thinking about what happened this morning?" I asked, glancing at her. 

"Kind of," she mumbled, biting her thumbnail while reading, trying to focus on the book. "I just can't understand how he doesn't know that she manipulated him," she said, turning the page, rolling onto her stomach and tucking a pillow under her chin, lifting her legs and rocking them back and forth. 

My eyes drifted to her legs and then I checked out her clothes. She's wearing black shorts with a simple red tank top. But she looks beautiful, she always looks beautiful. 

She glanced at me, closing the book and putting it on her nightstand. "How is he so brainwashed? She's gone but it's like he's doing everything like she would have asked." 

"That's because he is," I answered, standing up and grabbing a pen from her desk before sitting back down. "He's doing it for her." 

"Doesn't he think about himself? I understand that he loved her but how can he do everything so blindly?" she asked while I grabbed her hand, doodling on the back of it. "Is he really going to let her intentions ruin his life?" she mumbled absentmindedly. Her eyes flickered down to where I was doodling. "What are you drawing?" 

"A jellyfish," I answered, drawing the tentacles before giving it eyes and a little smile. "Hmm," I said, letting her hand go. 

She looked at it, chuckling softly. 

"Can I draw on your back?" 

She stared at me in surprise. 

"On my back?" 

"It's the easiest to draw on," I shrugged. 

"How am I going to wash it off?" she retorted. 

"I'll wipe it off later," I offered. 

"Okay," she shrugged, grabbing the book and resuming her reading. I shifted, sitting behind her. She sat up, throwing her hair in a bun, and kept reading, crossing her legs while I kneeled behind her. "They found the body!" she exclaimed, zoned in on the book. 

I tucked the bottom of her top into itself and then drew a single rose on her tailbone. Then I moved up to her shoulder blade, drawing around the thin strap of her top. I started sketching in a butterfly. 

"That tickles," she mumbled, glancing at me over her shoulder. 

"Deal with it," I said absentmindedly, drawing in every little detail of the butterfly. Then that one butterfly was followed by other butterflies, each one smaller than the last. And I shaded in each and every butterfly carefully and slowly across her shoulder blade, making it look a little realistic but still simple. After that, I spent a good thirty minutes adding more detail. 

"What are you drawing?" she asked. 

"A butterfly," I mumbled, wiping away an extra smudge of ink.

"A butterfly? For the past forty-five minutes?" 

"Butterflies," I mumbled, biting on the inside of my cheek, drawing the details of the wings. And then I drew little stars around them delicately. I closed the pen, sighing and leaning back to look at it properly. 

"Can I go see?" she asked, turning to me. I nodded and she stood up, going into the bathroom and turning around. I followed behind her, leaning against the doorway while facing her to get her reaction. She gasped, "That looks so pretty. I didn't know you could draw like that." She turned to me, grinning. "I love it. I would get it tattooed," she nodded, looking back at it. "Don't wipe that off. It'll come off on its own after a few showers. I like it," she smiled and then giggled softly before turning back to me. "I love it, actually."