Wonderwall

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•Wonderwall•

"You, colour me
you colour my soul.

Paint me red in places
once filled with gold"
-colour me, juke ross
—•—•—

"I want to show you something,"
Grayson's voice rung in Rose's ear, sending chills down her spin.

They both approached his studio. Seemingly it was hidden but then again, it wasn't. It was far away from everyone and mostly isolated from the other rooms in his big home in New Jersey.

It was the studio that started it all—the studio that reminded him of his teenage years and when he first go into arts.

A very hesitant looking expression was plastered onto her features. She didn't know what to expect but nevertheless, a little tint of excitement and curiosity jiggled her insides still.

"Now," Gray stopped, fully turning around. "I don't want you to think differently of me. I don't want you to be intimidated..."

"What do you mean?" She squinted her eyes.

"This studio holds my art—my old one. The darkness sitting behind this door is beyond your expectations."

A look of anxiousness was evident. He was scared of pushing her away—he was scared she'll distance herself after unraveling to her the darkest level of his soul.

She smiled softly. I'm not leaving you.

Stepping closer towards him, she planted a tender kiss upon his jaw, whispering nothing but soothing words right after. "Your darkness doesn't drive me away from you. Remember?"

For a second, he couldn't believe this women. She didn't realize this but, she was brave enough—strong enough to not be intimidated by his demons, by the fogginess surrounding him. How? Was all he could ask himself.

"You drive me insane," he stared at her with sincerity flooding his words.

"It's a good thing," she half smiled, embracing her hand in his. "Now, quite stalling and show me around."

Reality hits him. He gulped down thickly on his saliva, however he needed to do this. She trusts me, she accepts me.

The door knob got twisted by his large hand, slowly letting the door creak open exposing not only to Rose but to him too the place he hadn't visited in so long.

Paintings splattered his walls, sketches hugged the wooden table along with endless canvases being half finished.

He wished in that moment he would read her thoughts. This place was too dark for her. Maybe she wouldn't handle it.

Nothing but dark colors sat on his sketches.

Demons, horrendous faces, dis morphed figures, nudity, erotic paintings—that's what greeted Rose making a weird sensation rise within her. Was it fear? Intimidation? Curiosity for more?

And As if he wasn't there, she ignored his presence stepping into the studio more letting her footsteps ring through.

She squinted her eyes, fixating her sight over a particular piece. With eagerness, she approached it letting her fingertips run over tracing itself details. "Nude women?"