𝕸𝖀𝕽𝕯𝕰𝕽 | 𝖂𝖊𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖉𝖆𝖞

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖘𝖎𝖝

~

XXXVI

~

Pushing the door of the art studio open, Aiyla entered the room, only to feel her breath hitch.

Xavier's hair was carelessly brushed away from his face, his shirt and fingertips were covered in paint and bloody hell did he look hot  in the dim lighting.

"I need your help," she declared, holding Wednesday's drawing in her hands. Onyx flew off of her shoulder and perused the room. "Don't gloat."

Xavier smiled and the sight of it sent sparks alight in Aiyla's chest.

"What, do you want some drawing lessons?" He mused, putting his paintbrush down and taking the page from her. "Your line work's a little shaky."

"It's Wednesday's," Aiyla corrected, "She saw it in a vision, do you recognise it?"

He folded the paper up and gestured to the wall, where a paper was pinned up with a much more detailed drawing of the gate.

Xavier sat down on a stool.

"When did you draw this?" Aiyla inquired.

"When Bahadir was in the ICU," Xavier revealed, "I was having those dreams again, like before."

Aiyla turned to him, "Was the furry little problem there?"

"No, but I could feel it in the shadows, lurking in my mind," Xavier revealed.

She nodded, "How often are you getting these dreams now?"

"Not as much as before," he admitted, "Only when..." he trailed off, scratching his neck nervously.

"When what?"

"You're not with me."

Aiyla blushed, trying to stop herself from smiling. What she wouldn't give to kiss that boy there and then, to wrap him in her arms and make sure that a nightmare would never again flash before those handsome green eyes.

She tried to snap out of it, "You know where this is?"

"Yeah, the old Gates mansion. I pass it when I go running," Xavier noticed Aiyla staring at him, and met her gaze, "Why?"

Just then, Onyx cawed, drawing her attention, and pulled a sheet off of a large canvas.

Aiyla's eyes widened.

She walked over to it as Xavier coughed in embarrassment.

She knew that Xavier had drawn her before... but this...

It was a huge, detailed painting of her on a stage, holding a microphone. It was the day of the dance, when she had sung for him, right before he'd kissed her.