Inna's pov
My nap felt good.
I slept heavenly through the rest of the afternoon - there was just something about sleeping during the day that felt good but the feelings inside me that were sitting in my mind and filled with unhappiness- I was unhappy for some reason.
Thought about Sin-there was no time just for us, and if the past two days were any indication of how it would be later, we'd never have time for each other. Especially with the circumstances arising now.
I stayed in the bed for the next hour or so, lazily sprawled in the sheets. When the time inches closer to seven, I sit up, undoing my curls from my messy bun, and letting them tumble down my back before I get back to my room- the house was filled with silence.
After brushing my teeth, I pulled my hair up into a messy bun.
I took some apples from the kitchen and met with Olga in the kitchen while I was drinking some water with my comfort shirt on, Olga looked so fatigued- with no energy left. I needed to sleep and that's what I did.
I slept again.
When I woke up it was two in the morning, I went to my favorite place in this house and I felt like it's been so long since I didn't go there. I started to spray trails of paint on the portrait, venting almost all my emotions and humming some whistles.
I now- know how the features of the portrait should be painted, I couldn't describe the feeling I was feeling- finally, I got to finish it.
I stopped my training thoughts when I heard almost silent footsteps. "So, you are completing the portrait?"
Sin's voice, like a haunting melody, sliced through the air, reaching my ears as I sat on the ground, consumed by my artistic pursuit. The darkness within him radiated as he approached, a figure veiled in mystery. "You are completing the portrait?" he inquired.
"You are painting your mother, am I wrong?"
A shiver ran down my spine, my brush slipping from my grasp, forgotten on the ground. I turned to face Sin, our eyes locking in an intense exchange. "I never thought that Akira would be your mother," he continued, his words dripping with a mixture of disbelief and realization.
"She looked like a woman who will never have children."
My response, laced with a haunting melody of its own, echoed through the silence. "I never thought that I could have a family," I confessed, my voice mirroring his cadence.
A somber veil settled over us as Sin pondered the complexities of life.
"This is life," he murmured, his voice a whisper in the darkness. "One moment she gives, and the next she takes." Curiosity sparked in my eyes, the embers of a hidden truth flickering within me.
"Did Ace kill him?" I questioned; my words heavy with anticipation.
A flicker of something unreadable flew across Sin's gaze. "I did," he confessed, his voice bearing the weight of a long-awaited retribution. "Finally, Sin took his revenge. You should be happy." I said.
His words, like shards of a broken mirror, pierced my soul. "You should be happy too," he continued, his voice laden with a haunting plea. "You are now the heiress of the yakuza and the Russian Mafia. Why are you not happy, Red?"
The brush fell from my hand once more, forgotten amidst the depths of my conflicted emotions. I turned my face toward Sin, our breath mingling in the fragile space that separated us.