TABOO (slow updates)

T H R E E

Throwing the brushes away from me, I felt like punching the canvas in front of me. Nothing was formulating in that mind of mine, a mind that used to be very creative but now seemed as dark and hollow as the rest of me. I glare at the canvas, at the ugly hallway painting I wanted to change but everything that I painted only came out uglier than the last. I was now staring at what looked like a face clawing its skin out and frown. Had I really painted that? I place my hand in black paint and smudge it all over the hideous painting that was a portrayal of how I felt after all the attempts to make beautiful artwork but every time ending up with one scarier and uglier than the last. It was mirroring how I felt I realised after a moment of glaring at the smudged canvas, who I felt I was.

A knock at the door that was wide open, "the door is open," I don't look away from my canvas. Why couldn't I just paint something nice? Something mom would have painted?

"You don't have to knock," I dip a finger in the black paint and look up towards my guest.

Masud, his head hanging low as usual, "Sorry Ma'am but your dad demands of your presence downstairs," I tilt my head. I could really see him now. See the defined features of his face and how his nose was as strong and straight as that mighty jawline of his... but I still couldn't see his eyes.

"I'm not in the mood to be slapped thank you very much," his mouth twitched at the sides, daring to smile, daring to make a human emotion.

"I can't tell him that Ma'am."

"Well..." I stand up, my full height reaching his shoulders, "I suppose you can just tell him to piss on himself, it seems much more polite doesn't it?" His lips twitch again and he nods?

"Very polite indeed," So he could joke and he seemed less scared of me today which made me feel good that at least someone acted normal towards me. I had a mistress who didn't dare to utter a word to me downstairs, a dad I loathed and this young servant who didn't dare look me in the eyes.

"Look," I point towards the window and his head rises up to look at what I was pointing at, falling for my trick and as his eyes clash with mine I find myself speechless as I saw my next artwork in them. I take a step back utterly consumed by the beauty of his eyes, I had never seen anything like it. A brown and a blue iris? Not even looking abnormal against his tan skin but looking as if they belonged there, as if there was indeed nothing weird about two different coloured irises. I open my mouth but no words come out as I couldn't concentrate on what orb I was drowning in, the luring chocolate or the waves that seemed to want to drown me.

"H-How?" He looks down and I feel bad that I made him feel abnormal, made it look like he was a freak when it was the most beautiful thing I'd have laid my eyes upon.

"I'm sorry that seemed weird, I think it's beautiful, I just have never seen anything like it and was curious," he raises his head to look at me, actually look at me and he seemed to be reading me, stripping me with his eyes as he calculated something in his brain.

"Its a condition, it starts with H but I forgot the name," I nod taking a mental note to research what the condition was in the hundred of books in my suitcase that seemed to tire me at just the mere thought of arranging them.

He is about to incline his head towards the ground when I shake my head, "Don't do that, it makes me feel like an entitled person," he looks at me again with the same calculating eyes and slowly nods. Keeping his stare at me and not inclining it downwards. For a moment I am at loss of words but I somehow plunge myself out from the pools of his eyes.

"I'll come downstairs, you can go," he nods again, his lips set into a firm line and walks away.

I rush towards my new sketchbook that I hadn't opened yet to make a brief outline of what I was going to paint but a yellow sheet of paper falls onto my lap. I frown, I don't remember putting anything in there. I hadn't even ever opened the sketchbook yet.