Painting

Chapter 38

The living room's floor is covered with sheets. Tyler is in front of a canvas.

I'm reading a book next to the window, which is next to the TV. The glass of the window is warm. I touch it and take the time to feel the power of the poem, I just read. It's about self-love, I wish I had that.

Victor gave me the book, he was talking about in the vault.

-June!

-Yes?

-Come here.

That was direct. I walk toward him.

-Sit there.

-You won't go all Titanic on me, now will you?

He lifts up his left eyebrow and smirks at me.

-Only if you want to. I can't force you to be my Grande Odalisque.

I feel heat invading my whole body. It gets to my face, I try to hide it. It's no use, my face becomes red like a tomato. I look at Victor. He's in the kitchen focusing on a recipe, he's trying to create.

-Do you have a clean white sheet?

-In the wardrobe of your room.

-Thank you.

I climb the stairs slowly. I open the wardrobe door, look up and take the silk sheet. I drop it gently on the bed. I start by my pants. I slide them down my legs. Then, the tee-shirt. I trow them on the bed.

I take my bra off, that's actually a relief.

There go all of the underwear. I look in the mirror. What the hell am I doing? Do they know they have such an effect on me? So much, that I want to try new things. I never modeled for anything before. Now, I'm about to do it, in my almost most vulnerable state.

I look at the painting. Was she as stressed out as I am?

That white dress she has on. Maybe it was an expensive one.

You're drifting away. Now take that sheet and go downstairs.

I wrap it around my chest and walk out of my room. It's really a lot of fabric, it drags on the floor behind me. I stop in the middle. Tyler makes eye contact with me. I bite my lower lip. I go down the rest of the stairs. I stand there and he gets up.

He takes the cushions of the couch and puts them on the ground. He takes the blankets too.

I lay down and put a part of the sheet on my lower back, I take the other part to cover up my breasts. I lay my head on my arms.

-Look at me a little bit. Now, a gentle smile. Perfect.

He puts his paintbrush on the canvas and begins to do slow and calculated strokes. He frowns.

-The color of your hair is so special.  I'll have to mix colors.

The setting sun hits my face.

-Don't move! It's perfect. You look so good like that. I want to catch your essence, you look melancholic. Waiting for something.

-You think so?

-Don't take it the wrong way, I like it.

-I don't take it the wrong way, I'm just wondering how you see that.

-A feeling.

-A feeling? Like you can read people's palm, but you replace the hand with the face.

-No, not like that, I can't see your future. However I can read the body and face language. You could say I read between the lines a lot.

-That's nice.

I let the gentle sun of the evening warm my face. It must be really cold outside. We are near December. So maybe not that much.

-Can I come closer? I want to see your eyes clearly.

-My eyes, already?

-I didn't start that painting today.

-Well, go ahead.

He comes closer with the canvas, the easel and his paint brushes. He looks at me directly. His eyes look like stardust.

It doesn't surprise me, like I said it's what we were in the first place. Today, we aren't far from it either. Just look at your eyes in the mirror and then look at the pictures, the Hubble Telescope has taken over the years.

His eyes are so close to mine, I could dive into them. His lips look so soft. I would like to grab his hair, while he is kissing my collar bone. Tyler would leave his paintbrush and just lay on top of me. Lower the sheet and kiss my breasts. Then between them. Go down until he reaches my belly button. It would feel so good, his hands sliding on my sides, to remove the sheet completely. Kisses everywhere.

He is focusing on the painting and I'm lost in my day dreaming.

-Definitely melancholic.

-What?

-I said definitely melancholic and I think you are asking yourself a lot of questions. What's troubling you?

-Well, there is that guy that was once in my life and now he is trying to get back into it. I'm wondering if anyone would be able to love someone like me.

-Someone like you?

-I don't like myself. How could I ever love someone? How could anyone love me?

-You don't like yourself, why?

-I feel like I am talking to my therapist.

-I don't intend to make you talk, if you don't want to.

-When I look in the mirror, I see a stupid girl and I ask the universe, I ask it for the reason I was put here in the first place.

-That makes two of us.

He is looking at the ground.

-What am I even doing here?

-You saved Victor. You changed his life.

-And he changed mine. Maybe you are here to change the world.

-The world? That's a bit much, don't you think?

-Well, maybe mine and Victor's.

He looks at the ground. He whispers:

-I didn't take any pills, last night.

-That's good.

He gets back to his painting and I get back to losing myself in his eyes. Day dreaming. I hear the special sound that my phone makes when Teddy texts me. My eyes widen.

-What is it?

-Teddy...

-He texted you?

-Yes. I don't want to look.

-Then don't look.

-What if he is here?

-Here?

-He could be, that guy is really resourceful. He could have tracked me with my phone.

-Don't worry about that.

-What if he knows, where I live now? My parents are still in the apartment building.

He gets up and go get my phone. He reads what is on the screen.

-He is not here.

-Where is he?

-At home.

-At home?

-He is alone and he is thinking about you. A lot. I spare you the details, but he is rambling about what he would do, if you were there with him. Don't worry it's not sexual or anything. He asks where you are.

-That's a relief.

He gives me my phone.

-Are you going to answer?

-If I don't, it will be worst.

-You don't have to deal with this.

-I know.