"What is it?" Sev asks.
Atticus narrows his gaze at her. "Is that why you were in his studio last night?"
My studio?
I search her eyes, and find her shrinking into herself there.
"What were you doing in my studio, Angel?"
She gives Atticus a pointed look at ruining an aspect of her gift and he has the sense to look at least a little apologetic, but now I can't stop wondering what she's done.
There's a thickness in my throat, and I can't seem to swallow past it. I want to reassure her that whatever she did in there will be okay, but I'm not sure if that's true.
I cleaned it, yes. And I've been spending some time in there, but I'm not sure I'm ready for anything else.
If she got me something to paint, I…
I finally manage to swallow.
Aurora takes my hand. "Like I said, if you don't like it and you want to get rid of it, then I won't be offended at all. I promise."
It's all I have in me to nod as she starts to lead me from the living room and down the hall.
It shouldn't feel like a death march, but it sort of does.
Please don't be art supplies.
Please don't be a new easel, a canvas, or brushes.
I try to ready myself in case itisthose things. I imagine myself seeing them and smiling, saying 'thank you'. Rehearsing it in my head.
Atticus and Seven follow behind us, whispering something to each other that I don't catch, and I know they're as curious and concerned about this gift as I am.
But I do know one thing for sure. I willneverlose my shit on her like I did that first time I found her in my studio. No matter what is behind that door. She'll never have to see that darker side of me again. Not if I can help it.
When Aurora curls her fingers around the handle, she pauses for a moment, as though steeling herself, before she pushes it open.
In the room is a small foldable table from the garage set up against the wall. On it are several bottles of paint.
My throat goes dry as I take in what she's put in the middle of the floor. There's a massive drop sheet, and atop it is a canvas that's been removed from its wooden frame and laid flat. It's big. At least seven by seven.
"You hate it," she says, and her smile is pained.
I…
"Angel, what exactly am I looking at?"
"Oh,dude," Seven says, brushing past me to go to the table and check out the paint bottles and handful of other supplies there. "It's one of those,um." He snaps his fingers, trying to recall the name.
"It's a kinky art kit," Aurora supplies for him.
"That's it!" Sev says. "Yeah, like sex art."
I turn to face Aurora fully, trying to make sense of what I'm feeling.
"I know it's sort of a low art form compared to what you used to work with." She laughs awkwardly. "But the paint is totally skin-safe and I thought—I don't know—um…"
I go to her as she continues to stumble over her words, pulling her hands into mine.
