No Love Like This (BOYXBOY) **Under Construction**

Chapter 4

Zayne’s pov

I walk into his room throwing my jacket on a random chair at  his desk, rolling up my sleeves a bit and getting comfortable. Almost immediately upon entering the room I notice that the difference in atmosphere from the rest of the house; the majority of the house is bathed in classical colors of beige and off white with fine china hanging everywhere; on the walls, in glass cases, littering the dining tables.

But in Luke’s room, all that pretentiousness is thrown out the window and it feels real and authentic. Just like him I think, glancing over at him in his suit top coupled with a pair of blue jeans.

The wall above his bed are painted sporadically with several shades of the color blue, from ocean blue to sky blue and sapphire blue to denim blue. Originally it would look like a hot mess but instead it reminded me of the blue Northern Lights. On the other walls hang various artworks made in different mediums; there are several sketches of a beautiful creek with several trees in the background and there were other paintings of different wolves in multiple poses.

I hear a throat clear behind me and see Luke looking a bit embarrassed, not having moving an inch from his bedroom door. I point to the wolf I was currently studying, it was sitting on a giant boulder looking majestic and powerful. “Did you paint this?”

He nods slightly, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah,” he answers. “Those are different portraits of the members in the pack. They were kind enough to be my models pro bono.”

He walks over and strokes picture of the one I’m looking at. “This one is my dad.” He then points to the one next to it, “and this one is my mom.” It was a watercolor painting of a wolf lying daintily on the edge of a creek.

Then he motions offhandedly with his hand all over the room. “I made all of this actually. This is the only space where my mom would allow me to fully embrace my creative nature.”

I raise my eyebrows in shock. “Even this,” I point to the abstract work over his bed, which he nods.

I walk over to it, leaning on the bed for support and hesitantly stroke the painting. I can still feel the roughness of the different paints as it blends and melds with each other but standing from a distance it all flows into one smooth piece.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe out a sigh, still lightly stroking the brush strokes.

I hear light footsteps behind me and turn to see him standing a little less than a foot from my seat on his bed. “Thank you,” he says softly, lowering himself beside me on the bed never breaking eye contact with me.

The more we stare at each other the more I realize that the most amazing thing in this room by far, is him. I admire more closely the refined bone structure and cheekbones of his face as if made of marble. The faint stubble above his lip and jaw makes him more mature but the sweet smile on his lips make him seem so innocent and cute. His oceanic blue eyes speak of kindness but a fierce protectiveness that I envy for.

I wonder what it would be like to be the center of his attention, his world even. I look away hiding my emotion with a smirk.

“You’re great with your pack, you show compassion to everyone AND you are an artistic genius. Well aren’t you just a triple threat?” I laugh, elbowing him in the side. Over the span of the tour of his house, we’ve gotten pretty comfortable with each other even though initially it was a little awkward.

He smiles, blushing lightly. “I guess you can say that. I always thought that if I can’t draw for the rest of my life, I would like to be the next Alpha after my dad,” he says wistfully looking at all the pictures on the wall.