“What the fuck?” He cranks out a laugh. “You have the nerve to accuse me of that after you’ve just suggested marriage? Do you even hear how crazy you sound?”
“Don’t make fun of my feelings.” Her lip juts out in a pout, and I roll my eyes again. “I love you, and I know we belong together, so why wait?”
“Whoa.” Ben takes another step back, dragging his hand through his hair again. “Enough with the heavy. I came to take you out to dinner, and it’s feeling more and more like an ambush.”
“Nowyou’rebeing dramatic.” Saskia pokes him in the chest with her finger, and I’m gonna give myself eyestrain if I roll my eyes any more.
“Maybe we should do this another night,” Ben says, and Saskia’s eyes widen briefly in alarm.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” She closes the gap between them, placing her hands on his chest over his black button-up shirt. “We can’t celebrate our one-year anniversary any night but tonight.” She plants a faux sugary smile on her face that to me always makes her look like she’s constipated. “Forget I said anything. We can talk about it later.”
His sigh is loud in the silent room, but whatever he sees on her face seals the deal. “Okay. Let’s just go out and have fun.” He tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, and I want to rip his fingers away from her. I hate that she gets to feel his hands on her. I wish I was older so I could fight her for him, because I would make a much better girlfriend.
“I need to finish getting ready,” Saskia says, making a move toward the door.
I don’t wait to hear the end of the conversation. I slip around the corner of the alcove and exit the room, racing in my bare feet toward my studio before she comes out and catches me.
Twenty minutes later, I have forgotten all about my sister and Ben as I paint swirls of vibrant color on the canvas in broad sweeping strokes.
Mom turned one of the extra reception rooms into an art studio for me a few years ago, and it’s my safe haven in this monstrosity we call home. If I’ve had a bad day or something is bugging me, I lock myself away in here and vent my feelings through art. I don’t discriminate and I don’t restrict myself, experimenting with whatever appeals to my creative side. Mom indulges my whims, and I have taken classes in oil painting, watercolors, pottery, and jewelry making. Right now, I’m taking a photography class, and I’m enjoying getting a feel for the new Nikon camera Mom bought me for my birthday.
But today is a day for expressing myself through painting. The wide windows at the back of my studio face the rear gardens, and I love the view. I started out painting the beautiful manicured lawn and neat flower beds, but now it’s evolved into a crazy burst of colors and strokes and dots on the canvas as I let my creative streak take control.
A firm rap on the door pulls me out of my head, and a massive smile spreads over my mouth when the door opens and Ben sticks his head in. “Am I interrupting the genius at work?” he quips, flashing me a blinding smile that has my insides swooning.
“Yes, but I don’t mind your interruptions,” I say, setting my paintbrush down on the side of my easel. Grabbing a wet wipe from the pack, I clean paint off my fingers as I walk toward him.
Ben eases into the room, closing the door slightly but not fully shutting it. “Good, because I brought you something.” His smile expands as he walks toward me, extending the small box.
A squeal escapes my lips, and I clap my hands. “They’ve reopened?” My favorite bakery had shut down without explanation a few weeks ago, and I’d given up hope of ever tasting their delicious cupcakes again.
He nods, handing me the box. “I noticed lights on in the bakery as I was driving here, and I had to pull over and grab a cupcake for my favorite firefly.” He ruffles my hair, and warmth spreads over every inch of my body.
Opening the box, I let my long blonde hair hang around my face to disguise the blush staining my cheeks. “Red velvet. Yum.” I swipe my index finger into the soft sweet frosting.
“It’s your favorite, right?” He props his butt against the long table behind us.
“That and their…”
“Peanut butter truffle cupcakes,” he finishes for me.
I beam at him as I suck icing off my finger. “You know me well.”
“I think I do.” He waggles his brows as his eyes scan the room. “Damn, Firefly, you’ve really taken to photography. Those pictures are amazing.”
Every part of me melts at his compliment. I spin around, perusing the collection of photos stuck haphazardly to the far wall. “I’m still learning about technique, but it’s fun. I’m enjoying it.”
“You are so talented.” He pushes off the table and walks toward the wall on the other side, his fingers brushing over the newest additions to my mural. I copied a scene from one of the Harry Potter movies, depicting the Hogwarts Castle elevated high above the ground with a lush green forest at the base. I’ve added to it over the months since I started it, as the mood took me.
“You added Harry,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me.
“And Hermione and Ron.” Walking to his side, I point at the small figures elevated in the sky upon broomsticks. “I had to add a quidditch game after we went on the ride at Universal Studios.” My finger traces the circular edge of the golden snitch, and I smile as contentment sweeps through me.
Ben and painting make me happy, and I could burst with joy in this moment.
“You find inspiration everywhere, Sierra. I wouldn’t mind seeing the world through your eyes.”
“The world is one giant pool of inspiration. How could I not be inspired every second of every minute of every day?”
