Icon

Chapter 12

I grab the ice pack, pressing it to Stellan's face, sighing.

The show is days away and now, my showstopper has the makings of a black eye.

"It's going to be a bitch to cover this up," I mutter, grimacing when he winces.

He smirks slightly. "You should see the other guy."

I narrow my eyes and shake my head. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm sure we'll be able to conceal this by the show."

I settle the ice onto his face gently, unable to tear my eyes from his. He touches my face softly. The police came and went with a bloodied Marcus- noting the fight as a domestic dispute. The lamp that once brightened this room is in pieces on the floor.

I curve my cheek into his palm, closing my eyes as his thumb skims over my lower lip.

"Thank you... for stopping him," I murmur quietly against the end of his finger.

My eyelids flutter and I find him staring, his lips pressed together. "Can you do something for me?"

I nod. "What?"

"Don't let him in next time? Whether I'm here or not... He's dangerous, Iris."

"I know, I've never seen him like this."

"Well he's just lost something- wonderful. He's unable to come to terms with that."

I nod, letting go as he grabs the ice, taking it from his face. "Do you think he'll try to come back?"

"I doubt it."

He reaches out, standing suddenly. I take his hand and walk straight into him. I feel him release a breath of surprise beneath my fingers. I clutch him tightly, my face pressed against his chest.

I'm calmer when he strokes my hair gently, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

...

"You're too stiff!" I call out from my seat on the floor. Stellan places his hands on his hips, smirking on top the runway. We've been at this for hours. Viktor is emailing beside me, amerced in a message.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with my hands," Stellan responds, shrugging. I stand up, setting down my soup and walk up the side steps onto the crimson platform.

"Your arms are fine. It's your step that's stiff. Try again, maybe bounce off of your toes a little."

He turns and I watch him walk to the end, biting my lip.

"He looks fine, Iris," Viktor says suddenly, looking up from his keyboard. "Give the poor guy a break."

I glance over at Stellan, sighing. Has he even eaten yet? Shit. I close my eyes and shake my head. "Never mind. That's totally fine, Stellan. You're good for the show."

"I don't mind trying it," he answers, always polite. I'm surprised he hasn't lost his patience with me by now. Most of my models do.

I smile and shake my head, beckoning him over. He approaches me, looking dashing in a crimson, entirely velvet tuxedo. The theme colors are white and crimson. The seats, tables, light fixtures are all white. The only items that will display the red will be the outfits, the stage, and the aerial contortionists silk fabrics.

I take his hand, exhaling. "I'm nervous."

"For the show?"

"Yes."