The Night We Met || Marcus Volturi X OC

3

A door slammed in the distance, footsteps unheard but mutterings of an annoyed man, a string of curses, and then another slam of him dropping a pile of books and pencils on an already cluttered table. He flicked his hair from his face, huffing before he started up once more.

Storming to his balcony doors, he flung them open to let the fresh air glide into the room before he started rummaging around the canvases that sat next to the wall in a pile.

"That insufferable silent silent man... Voice of reason. Bah!" The man growled. Moving his snowy strains back into a low bun. He began piling off his shirt, hanging it behind his door.

He slammed a few glasses of water down on a tray, poured his paint into smaller trays, he picked up a brush. Staring at the blank canvas, he growled again.

"God damn it!"

He jumped back to his feet, dropping the brush on the table. He couldn't paint! He couldn't do anything! Those obnoxious, catty blood bags had pissed him off for the second time. Not even ten hours and they were already causing trouble again. He voted to just kill them all but nooo... Marcus had to be the voice of reason.

He turned to walk out onto the balcony of his studio, his hand darted out quicker than a viper and snatched the paper from the air before it hit his face.

"What's this?" He mumbled to himself. 

It was a perfect colored sketch of the throne room only it was cluttered and he and his brothers were standing above one of the prisoners they had in the dungeon. Caius could pinpoint that disgusting Indian from anywhere.

He betrayed his coven in favor for rallying with a few strangling nomads against the Volturi rule. Nobody in the castle should even know about him apart from the elite guard and none of the elite guards could make such a beautiful piece of art. At least in Caius's opinion, it was beautiful. He was very fond of morbid scenes and the way the sketch was made to represent an ominous, medieval black misty blur across the faces, a light fog in the room to give it an eerie glow... He could tell who was who of the three kings. What surprised him was Marcus doing the beheading.

Caius grinned down at the sketch and held it to his nose. It smelt of bergamot, lemon, and sweet Jasmine. He held it closer to his nose hinting at the lilies and roses. It provoked a burn in his throat from the rich notes of cedar and amber. He groaned from the delicious scent of ambrosia that painted the corner of the page.

A human had been responsible for this.

Caius never thought a human smelt so good in all his existence. He's had plenty of blood singers in his life but this smell was just simply different. He didn't want to go rip her throat out but he did desire to go bask in her scent. It was soothing... Promises of tranquillity.

He sat the lovely sketch on his easel and clipped it to the board so it wouldn't fly away. He picked up his brush and studied the drawing before putting a light pigment of grey on his canvas.

There was no way he was going to go search for this human while Aro had his perky panties on. It would only stimulate his unusual brother's need to shove his nose where it didn't belong... Again.

He liked the twisted scene on the paper, liked it so much in fact he was going to replicate it and draw the mortal out.

He smirked at the thought, the scent was enough to lock away in the tower to keep safe and to saturate oneself in. He had a feeling Athenodora would very much like to have a taste. He would do anything for his beautiful mate. Even if he forced some useless human to become her pet and maybe even touch their mind about art. It's been a long time since he's had someone he could discuss art with that wasn't a complete moron.