(chapters that contain smut will be marked with a '⋆')
a/n: it's not what you think. don't kill me.
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Y/N !
ARIANA LEFT MY APARTMENT that morning, and I never saw her again. I gave her the painting that I spontaneously finished while she was asleep, and she was out the door.
That was three years ago.
For 1,124 days, I have thought about her. I no longer have my dreams, but now I can't stop thinking of her when I am conscious.
When I'm making my morning coffee, I think of Ariana. When I'm showering, I think of Ariana. She is the last thing I think about before I drift off at night and the first thing I think about when my eyes open in the morning.
And still, Ariana is the only thing that I can seem to paint. I don't have to worry about painter's block anymore, because that morning, right before she dashed out of my door with the canvas in hand, she permitted me to keep painting her.
Her only wish was that I would keep them appropriate, and if I did that, I could continue showing them to the public. No one had to know that she was a real woman.
Just me, her, her friend, and Steve. It was our little secret.
So, I have continued to paint her. Even though I don't have dreams of her anymore, I have enough memories of her to paint one picture for the rest of my life.
Over the last three years, I've racked up nearly fifty new pieces dedicated to her. Tonight, I'm hosting another gala to show them off, as Ariana permitted me to.
For tonight, tickets were needed to be granted permission into the gala. Tickets sold out in just under a day, which was no surprise to me. People would pay thousands to experience her beauty for just a few short hours.
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