Page 86 of Ink Deep Devotion
Titan sleeps on one of the empty couches, complaining the entire night that sleeping on the ground is more comfortable. All day Sunday, two of my dad’s guards take Titan’s place after his father requests him, forcing him to leave campus.
I paint all day Sunday, painting until my mind turns fuzzy from the high it gives me. I don’t have to think; it’s an escape—bliss, freedom—just me, my paints, and an empty canvas.
I still focus on abstract art, although I would like to try more figurative subjects; it’s just that I’m scared. I fear capturing an image, perhaps of myself, would be…monstrous. My brush shows what a mirror keeps hidden. It shows what hides inside of me.
Until I’m brave enough, I keep experimenting with contrast, thick lines, and textures that are pleasing to the viewer.
Pleasing. Not yet brave enough to make the viewer cringe.
I’ve discussed this with my art professor. He was so supportive and chill, but it still shocks me most days.“Don’t force it. If art is your therapy, then allow it to help heal you,but Mila, remember that we will never grow if we don’t try something new. You have to spread your roots to expand.”
At four a.m. on Sunday, I clean up and leave the studio, passing the two guards, but instead of exiting the building, I make my way to the rooftop.
“Miss..” one of them shouts, and the other pulls out his phone to make a call. I ignore them. They never touch me. Dash or my father could order them to drag me back to my dorm, but they never have.
Pushing open the door, I step outside and inhale. Students come up here to paint all the time; all the scattered paint stains and discarded brushes prove there is no harm on this roof. Only memories, aches, and pains are trapped under the stains. Some kids come up here to smoke weed and chill. I started to come up here to see the night sky before I went to sleep. It’s a way for me to calm my mind after the day.
I don’t go to the edge; even I know my guards have limits. I stay close to him, sitting against the stairwell wall while he stands guard at the door.
“I’d prefer you not on the roof. I value my life.” He grunts.
“If they threaten you, I’ll stop.” My head tips back, and I take in all the stars. They shimmer like all my lost hopes, slowly drifting farther and farther away from my sight until, one day, they will burn out entirely.
“He’s on his way.” One guard whispers to the other.
I close my eyes. Did they mean Dash?
A warmth spreads in my belly. I get to my feet and slowly make my way down the stairs. It isn’t until I’m halfway across campus that it happens. Chills kiss the nape of my neck, spreading like a lost lover's fingers over my skin. My guards turnand leave. Even they don’t want to bear witness to our twisted love. Then, out from the dark night comes my dark knight.
The cool moonlight air is nothing compared to the fury radiating off Dash. I feel his shadow press against my back. Each step I take is with bated breath as I walk back to my dorm.
I want him to speak first. He doesn’t until I open my door.
What did I expect, him to grab me, throw me against the wall, and bury himself inside of me again? Did I think one round of sex would make him confess more of his fears to me?
I know this is going to take time. I need to thicken my skin, but I’ve had all I can handle tonight.
He steps in front of me, trapping me as he guides me back to the living room wall.“Where the fuck were you?”
I search his face for bruises and broken bones since returning from Cillian’s fighting unit. He’s clean physically, but mentally, it’s shining in his eyes. Dark shadows cover them.
“You haven’t slept,” I whisper as I reach out to touch his jaw, but he jerks away from my hand.
So it’s his hate and disgust I’ll be getting tonight.
His eyes glance lower. His hand touches my hip, sliding up to the collar of my shirt.“Whose shirt is that, Mila?” He yells, eyes completely feral as he looks at my clothing.“Who’s shirt are you wearing?”
Oh shit!Okay, this looks intentional, but I honestly didn’t mean for it to happen. I want to provoke Dash, but I don’t want to make him wonder if I’m cheating on him. I would never hurt him that way.
I brought Blaze’s shirt back to him after I washed it, but I’m a mess, and I make messes. In an attempt to squeeze out everylast drop of paint from the tube, I splattered my clothing again, so Blaze just told me to keep the shirt. So I slipped it back on and haven’t changed out of it since I entered the art studio on Saturday.
“I…I was just borrowing it.”Believe me.“He’s just a friend.”
Nostrils flare.“Did I give you permission to have a friend, Mila?” He’s jealous and hurt.
I meet Dash's eyes, wishing mine didn’t water with tears. I want to reach up and kiss him, to take all his fears and erase them. He’s lashing out now. I should have expected this.
“Dash, p-please,” I mumble, feeling a pressure build behind my eyes.“just leave me alone. I’m tired.” I try reverse psychology.
