❝𝒎𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒑𝒆𝒊𝒔.❞
(you're missing from me.)
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𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔
Iva Laurent lost her parents when she was eight. Sold to the black market by her only relative left on this earth, she was l...
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SHANGHAI December Location: Iva's Apartment
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The moment I returned from Elysium, I took a long shower and randomly grabbed onto an oversized sweater to put on. I walked towards the corner of the living room and sat in front of my easel. Slipping my thumb through the palette, I started to brush through the small paste of paints, mixing the colours and getting lost in my own emotions.
Not sure how much time had passed but I stared at the guy on canvas who is now staring at me with his perfect chocolate brown eyes. I remembered even the slightest detail of him and it was to the extent that I could map every freckle on his face in a similar way to how an astrologist would know the entire constellation of stars like the back of his hand. I was also unable to forget the exact shade of those brown eyes which used to carry so much warmth in them.
I sat where I was and looked towards the finished painting before a wave of nausea hit me and I let out a dry heave. Staggering, I accidentally toppled the canvas and it hit the floor with a loud clank.
Five years.
Since that day, I could never paint any other expression on his face except for disappointment and resentment. Yet, from all the years I knew Sebastian, he had never shown that expression towards me. My guilt manifested this imagery so vividly that I had forgotten all other emotions that were once etched on his charming face.
My tremoring hand reached for his face in the painting but the wet paint smeared those features upon my touch, blurring all the defined lines which I had spent so much effort painting. Just like that, Sebastian had slipped through the spaces between my fingers as easily as how I destroyed this painting.
Laying on the cold marbled floor, I poured my heart out. Tears flowed relentlessly and unapologetically, desperate to express all the painful emotions that I had locked away. My hands clamped over my mouth while I screamed, muffling the sounds of my suffering. Even when I lived alone, I was so afraid that someone might just uncover this side of me.
I continued to cry till the tears stopped on their own. These nights, I'd just let myself be whatever I wanted to — sad, vulnerable, anything. Then, the next day I'll be whatever everyone wanted me to be again.
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I woke up at the crack of dawn and pushed myself off the cold marbled floor. Picking up the canvas, I stashed it by the side of the trash bin and went straight to the bathroom. Bunching onto the hem of my sweater, I pulled it off me and threw it to the ground. My eyes met my reflection in the mirror and exhaled a helpless sigh. What a mess. My hands were in all the shades of colour and I even smeared the paint all over my body. Stepping into the shower, I turned the water on high and washed everything away. The hot water scalded my skin slightly but definitely placed me on a better mood by alleviating the pounding headache from a night's worth of crying.
