The Bad Boy's Artist
- Reads 82
- Votes 2
- Parts 2
MatureOngoing8m
Last published Sat, Feb 20, 2016
I pushed my sketch book aside and looked up to see a very mad Arson looking at me. "Where the hell did you go?" He yelled not with holding any of his anger.
I looked at him and pointed to my surroundings. "Right where you see me. It's not like I have a lot of places I can run off to." I stated.
He looked around finally registering where he was and slowly started to calm down. He finally turned his attention back to be me studying my face with those emerald green eyes, and I caught myself holding a breath as his eyes locked with mine. "I'll say this once and I won't say it again, your mine....if you want to go somewhere you talk it over with me first. " He responded coolly not removing his eyes from mine.
I took a deep breath thinking about what I was going to say, when really all I need was one word. "Why?" I questioned him looking back into those eyes.
"Because your mine last sliver of hope and if anything happens to you I know there won't be a chance for me." He responded.
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