Nudest Artist and the Prostitute [COMPLETED]

20

March 6th 1924 / Thursday

Minas POV

The Brothel Privat Room

The soft morning light seeped through the tattered curtains, casting golden streaks across the dimly lit room. The scent of last night lingered in the air perfume, whiskey, and something warmer, something that made my skin tingle. I stirred beneath the sheets, the silk smooth against my bare skin. Then, I felt it. Eyes on me. Slowly, I turned my head, and there he was. Already awake, propped up on one arm, watching me with an unreadable expression. I blinked, my voice still thick with sleep.

"Were you watching me?".

He smiled the kind that made a woman feel like she was something precious.

"You're quite breathtaking when you sleep".

I scoffed, stretching slightly.

"It ain't normal for me to wake up and see the man I slept with for money still here", I said.

He didn't flinch at my words, just studied me like he was searching for something beneath the surface.

"I don't want to be just your paying customer. Let me get to know you. The real you... Sharon".

Sharon. That name felt foreign on his lips. The name I wore like a costume, a shield. I tilted my head. 

"Then tell me your name".

He did, but the syllables were foreign, smooth yet unfamiliar on my tongue. I tried to repeat it, but it came out clumsy. He chuckled, the sound rich and warm.

"Cute", he said, shaking his head.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips despite myself. He sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"How about breakfast?", he asked.

"Meet me back here at 10:30?".

I hesitated. Clients didn't ask me for breakfast. They left, they paid, they forgot. This was different.

"...Sure", I found myself saying.

He grinned, slipping out of bed. My breath hitched slightly as I caught sight of him broad shoulders, defined muscles, the kind of body sculpted by youth and not the indulgence of age. I swallowed, looking away. He noticed, smirking as he reached for his clothes.

"Not used to seeing a man like me?".

I huffed.

"No. Normally, it's old men with bodies not exactly pleasing to the eye".

He laughed.

"I'm glad I'm an attractive man, then", he said.

I shook my head, grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around me as I stood.

"You should hurry up and leave so I can hurry and get ready".

He buttoned his shirt, watching me with an amused glint in his eye.

"Right. But don't forget 10:30".

I nodded. Before stepping out, he leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to my forehead. That was what caught me off guard. That simple act. He waved a casual goodbye and slipped out the door. I stared after him, pressing a hand to my chest as I felt my heart hammering. What in the world? Before I could dwell on it, the door swung open again, and in waltzed Sana, her arms crossed, her face alight with mischief.