Covetousness

Redflags #4 | OT8 +1

Same warnings ladies ^-^

Maloi = The perfectionist

You find yourself lying in Maloi’s bedroom, naked under a soft, white blanket that’s draped across your chest. The room is quiet except for the faint rustle of the curtains, and the golden sunlight filters through, gently touching your face. The warmth from the sun gradually pulls you from your sleep, your body stirring beneath the covers. As you slowly awaken, memories from the night before come flooding back—flashes of the passionate moments you shared with Maloi. You shake your head slightly, feeling a mixture of disbelief and guilt over what transpired.

Turning to your side, you notice the space next to you is empty. Maloi is no longer in bed. "She’s probably downstairs," you think, "maybe Sheena woke her up, and now she’s cooking breakfast for everyone." Your eyes wander around the room, taking in its neatness. Everything is in its place, a reflection of Maloi’s meticulous nature. Your gaze falls on a large, unfinished painting propped up against the far wall. The brushstrokes are intricate, yet it’s clear the piece isn’t complete.

Feeling a pull of curiosity, you stand up, clutching the blanket around your body for modesty. Your legs feel sore, a reminder of the physical toll from the night before, but you ignore the discomfort, inching closer to the painting. The vibrant colors and half-finished lines beckon you, and you lean forward to examine it more closely. But suddenly, a sharp pain shoots through your legs, and before you can catch yourself, you stumble. The blanket tangles around your feet, causing you to fall forward. Your hands reach out in desperation, but it’s too late—you crash into the easel, knocking the painting off its stand.

The canvas topples to the floor with a thud, and to your horror, an open jar of paint spills across it, splattering across the once-perfect work of art. Bright colors stain the blanket you’re wearing, streaking across the floor in a chaotic mess.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, rubbing your head where you hit it during the fall. Pain throbs in your skull, but it’s nothing compared to the panic that rises in your chest as you take in the scene of destruction. The painting—Maloi’s hard work—now ruined. The splattered paint seems to mock you, the vibrant colors seeping into the fabric of the canvas.

Your heart pounds as you stand there, frozen in disbelief. "What have I done?" you whisper to yourself, feeling dread tighten around your chest. You’re about to bend down to try and fix the mess when you hear the door fly open behind you.

"What the hell happened?! Y/N?!" Maloi’s voice is sharp and filled with panic as she rushes into the room. Her eyes immediately lock onto the chaos before her—the ruined painting, the spilled paints, and you, standing in the middle of it all with paint-streaked hands and a guilty expression. Her face contorts with fury as the reality of the situation sinks in.

Her fists clench, and without another word, she storms toward you, her footsteps heavy and quick. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" she screams, grabbing some of her belongings that are now smeared with paint. You can see the hurt and anger flashing in her eyes, and you’re terrified of what’s about to happen next.

Shaking, you try to explain, your voice cracking with fear. "I-I’m so sorry, Maloi. I didn’t mean to… I tripped, and—" But before you can finish your sentence, her gaze shifts to the destroyed painting, and her face turns even redder with rage.

"NO! I SPENT TWO WEEKS ON THIS! TWO WEEKS!" she shouts, her voice cracking with emotion. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN’T MEAN TO?!" Her scream echoes through the room, piercing the air like a knife. You can hear the anger in every syllable, and it’s terrifying. Her shouts are so loud that they must be echoing through the entire house.