PAINTER'S MODEL

15: ACCEPT

CHAPTER 15: ACCEPT

Your cries never waver as you continue to wipe your tears with your hands. Calvin occasionally rubs your back as a comforting gesture while keeping his other hand on the wheel.

The both of you are presently in his car, driving to who knows where– probably to his house.

Unfortunately, you were too busy thinking about the death of your boyfriend to even mind the place of destination.

After some time, the car finally came to a halt. Your sobs continue. During the whole ride, you went through a pattern of bawling out, catching your breath and easing your cries, then suddenly letting out loud cries when the picture of Lois' coffin was displayed in your mind.

Calvin steps out first and runs over to the other side. As always, he opens the door for you.

You sniffed, "Where are we?" Your fingers rapidly and constantly wipe the tears that keep on falling from your eyes.

"Oh, darling..." He detaches the seatbelt from you and picks up your form, cradling you against his chest like a baby.

"No need to cry, it's going to be alright." His hands gently caress the back of your thighs where one of his hands is placed.

Kicking the door closed with his foot, he starts to walk towards the familiar big doors of his house.

A man dressed in formal wear opens the door for him. "Welcome back, Master." He bows.

The artist nods his head and walks away into the staircase with his arms still wrapped around you.

He walks along a long hallway before reaching a pair of large doors. Using his elbow to twist the doorknob, the sight of a large bedroom bestowed upon you.

It looks similar to the bedroom you slept in, but this one is thrice as bigger than that.

Plus, it looks more populated with things, especially those familiar to you (and resembles the things you lost such as your favorite animal stuffed toy,) though it all remained organized.

Calvin gently places you on the queen-sized bed and pulled over the covers to shield the both of you.

His hands are still wrapped around your figure.

He pulls you closer to his body.

His chin rests on your neck.

His hands rub your lower back.

Then comes the feeling of lips being placed on your skin.

Little by little, you're beginning to understand the situation you're currently in.

"What are you doing?" You pushed the artist away with which the said man replied with a frown.

The sorrow within you was replaced with fear.

However, Calvin just pulled you back towards his chest, trapping you and engulfing you in a big hug. You tried to squirm away and scream, but your wails were muffled.

"Mr. Doris–!" His name is the only thing you were able to voice out clearly, up until he pushes you back towards his hard chest and your screams were muffled once again.

"Baby, look at me," You looked up at him in contempt. "I understand that his sudden death makes you want to cry, but, darling, he's not worth your tears and time."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" You gathered the strength and rage to push him away. "Are you fucking crazy!?" You wriggled away and stood up, looking down at him.

"Are you fucking rejecting me?" He mocked. He places his head on his palm, his head, therefore, is supported by his elbow.

"What?" You baffled. "What the hell are you talking about?" You repeated your question from earlier.

"I asked if you are literally going to reject my love for you." His eyes squinted.

You stood there in silence. You were completely confused about how this escalated so quickly. Love? When did he even confess? When did the both of you get so intimate?

"Huh? When did we even become a thing? Heck! You just brought me to your house and started touching me inappropriately!" You justified.

"You're fucking crazy, Calvin Doris! Are you pulling a prank or what? Because I've never expected you to be this...this–stupid!" You stuttered.

"Hah?" He growled. "Of course, I'm serious; I'm serious all the time. I would never joke about anything, especially when it's about you."

"Maybe you're the one who's fucking crazy. Do you really not see how the both of us fit perfectly as a couple?" He slowly sits up from the bed.

"I never!" You cried. "I never see any signs at all! I just treated you as any other colleague–"

"So you must be oblivious then." He tsked. "Just face it (Y/N), we would look so good together. Our future family would be so perfect–!"

"You just need to shut up and accept it!" The tone of his voice did a complete 180.