Something blossoming

Chaper 6: A piece of Art

His POV
I'm tired. I'm always tired. But I can never sleep. So here I am, like every night wandering the halls on my 5 hour sleep break from guard duty. I had layed in bed for about an hour or two, eventually giving up, so I decided to explore, exiting the west wing andheaded, I'm not sure where. I took too many turns. I'm pretty sure I'm lost. How fucking big is this place? I asked myself when I turned down yet another hall. This area of the house appears to be for their art collection. Many paintings adore the tall walls, some I recognize as famous paintings, others not so much. I went to turn a corner when I caught myself.

There she was. Sitting in the moonlight looking at a painting. She looked like a fallen angel. Her long brown hair spilled around her. Clad in a white night dress that was just knee length and, is that bunny slippers? I nearly laughed, hadn't my eyes caught her face. She was staring at the painting still but in the moonlight I could see the tears rolling down her face. They looked like pieces of liquid stardust falling down her apple cheeks. My heart clenched. I wanted to go to her, hold her or ask what was wrong.

Since I arrived here, and I saw her. I haven't been able to keep my eyes off her. She's like no other I've met before. Her short stature and adorable clothing choices at first glance make her seem innocent, a delicate creature to be protected. However, anyone who pays more than a second glance at her can see, in her eyes, a cold gaze. It caught me off guard at first, such a little thing, having the eyes of many men in my line of work, who have been through the worst but never fully came out. Dead, cold emotionless eyes. Like mine. And she had me then, tangled in her  Intricate web, I wanted to find out more about her, everything about her. Thaw the iced glaze over her eyes, melt to cold walls around her with my touch, my attention.

But It hasn't been so easy. To my distaste her sister claimed me first. Rose is sweet and beautiful. I am a man who appreciates all types of beauty but she wasn't Aurora. My little Aurora. Every Time to catch her gaze she looks away like I burned her. It hurts, I won't lie. But I won't give up yet. I won't give up unless she looks me in the eyes and tells me to leave her alone.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when the little angel looks down at her wrist in her lap, rubbing them in a soothing manner. Even from here I can see the now purple bruise that adores her pale porcelain skin. My fist clenched at my side. Pissed would be an understatement. When I saw her wrists in the foyer earlier I nearly chased down Hue's car and beat that little boy Tristan for hurting the sweet girl. Nearly hurting her family too for their reaction as well. When her parents left and she received no support I could see it in her face. Something broke inside. The last bit of life in her. Gone.

The little doe eyed girl then layed down, seemingly trying to fall asleep in the middle of this eerie hallway. I watched for minutes, maybe even hours as her breath steady and she fell into a deep slumber. I felt like a creep, but I just want to make sure she's okay. After some time I crept towards her. Assuring she was indeed asleep, I picked her up bridal style and carried her back to the room . She was so cold against my chest. I frowned down at the small thing in my arms. I wish I could do more, be there more fo there.

I laid her in her bed, putting the sheets over her sleeping body. Staring at her sleeping form, I couldn't help but think, she's a piece of artwork. A masterpiece. With that deciding not to be any creepier I snuck out of her room. And back to mine.

When I arrived back to my room the clock told me I only had 40 minutes before I had to be back and posted in front of Rose's door. So I skipped sleeping and decided on getting ready instead. I needed a shower.