Painting Paper Hearts | ✔

Chapter 16- Troubled

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My eyes pried open in search of the strong force which kept shaking me senseless. I found Erin beside me, her hair neatly tucked behind her ear, an anxious look painted on her face. My heart sunk at the sight of her worried expression.

It took me some time to realize that I was in the studio until my eyes wandered to the canvases and brushes.

"I keep on knocking but you're not answering so I used my bobby pin to open the door. You've been here all evening, I thought you died or something," Erin explained but my mind was still out of it. I looked at her half-lidded then yawned.

I felt a throbbing sensation behind my neck as soon as I sat up then last night's sketching session clouded my mind. I must've fell asleep and slept in one position all night. After all, the couch was a tight space to sleep in.

A crunching sound with slightly sharp feeling pricked the sole of my foot as soon as I stepped the ground and saw a paper crumpled into a ball. I knew exactly what it contained as the memories of last night began bombarding my head.

"I know that I wouldn't be able to compensate on the happiness that she finds in her music if she marries me."

"I'm just protecting her."

Those exact words from Marcus haunted me the whole evening. I locked myself in the studio and thought that I could create another masterpiece. After all, it worked when I painted The Betrayal. Every emotion, every stem of my hate and shattered pieces of my torn heart went in the painting.

Hate.

I supposed it was my only drive when The Betrayal came to completion. Yet I couldn't even do the same thing this time around.

"What time is it?" my voice cracked at every syllable as my throat was parched. I swallowed hard.

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon," she replied when I looked up at her, meeting her narrowed eyes. "What happened to you last night? You look like a bruha." She pointed out.

I winced at the Filipino term she had learned from a classmate during English class. "When did I ever wake up pretty and without a drool in my face?"

The back of my hand brushed across my face after realizing my tendency to drool while sleeping, but surprisingly, last night was an exception.

"My point is that you look bothered... not hot—just bothered." Erin pointed out with a smile in her face.

I let out a small chuckle at her comment but my mouth quickly morphed into a straight line. Erin pick up one of the ripped paper on the floor. Her eyes narrowed at me.

"Alright. Spill the details. Now."

"There's nothing to spill."

"Nothing, eh?" Erin held up the paper, spreading it out in perfect view. It was one of the failed sketch from last night. Although the harsh scribbles and unfinished touches seemed undetectable, I knew Erin would still be able to tell who it was.

"Pray tell, Em, why is Marcus in all of your sketches? Did something bad happen?"

My eyes averted her piercing gaze. "Nope. Nothing happened and I'm just... practicing." I spat a lie, feeling bad altogether when Erin sighed in defeat.