“Is this just for me?” I ask, raising a chocolate croissant to my lips. But before I can take a bite, Phantom’s beside me, chomping their jaws at my breakfast. I try to move it out of their reach, but I’m too slow, losing half of my pastry in one fell swoop. Phantom tosses their mask down on the table as they chew, reaching into the bag for another. Then they take a mug, drinking a long sip, before walking back to the side of the table nearest the canvas.
Finally noticing my jaw on the floor, they ask, “What?”
“You’re eating,” I say thickly.
“Yeah, that’s kind of one of those things humans need to do to survive,” they reply with a smirk. A smirk I cansee.
I round the table and hug them tightly.
“What’s this for?” Phantom asks before laughing in my ear. It’s the sound of angels, not demons.
I blink against the tears that prick my eyes. “For being honest with me. For opening up.”
They hug me tighter, the infinitesimal space between us evaporating. “Thanks for not running when you saw all of me.”
I shake my head. “I would’ve been leaving a piece of me behind. And I’m sorry, but I’d like to remain whole if at all possible.”
“Maeve,” they say as they slowly pull away, suddenly serious. “After we finish this painting, I’m going to voluntarily admit myself to a psychiatric hospital.”
My eyes well further.
“I looked it up this morning. It’s almost an hour away, and it’ll probably impact my ability to be able to come and visit.” They start to turn their head away from me, as if they’re still ashamed. No more of that.
“I’m so proud of you, Phantom,” I say, rolling up on my toes to kiss their cheek, and for the second time, I see them blush.
I clean up in the bathroom after we eat our fill of breakfast, showering to scrub off the dried paint from yesterday. When I reenter the studio, Phantom’s already hard at work and I’m in a fresh pair of clothes. Phantom stopped by my dorm when they left to get breakfast so I’m much comfier today, in a pair of my own jeans and a sweater.
“If I’d known where you kept those adorable yellow coveralls, I would’ve brought them,” they say with an appreciative glance.
“This particular painting is worth getting messy for,” I reply matter-of-factly.
“Oh, is that so?” they ask with a smile. Their teeth are the creamy white of pearls and slightly crooked on the bottom row, like they’d had braces at one point and eventually gave up on wearing the retainer. I have a feeling I’m going to grow to love that smile more than any painting.
I want to know, I realize.I want to know everything. Every little detail of their life.So, as I approach the canvas, I ask for what I want. “Tell me more, please.”
“About me?” they ask.
I nod excitedly, picking up the brush and palette Phantom had already prepared for me.
“It’s a long story. Twenty-one years’ worth.”
I gesture to the canvas. “I think we’ve got plenty of time.”
Phantom laughs as they begin to paint. “True. Well, I guess I’ll start on a happier note today. I have a little sister.”
I gasp. “What? Why have you never mentioned her before?”
“She’s a lot younger than me. She’s only four, turning five this year. My parents decided to have another child after my... well, after I confessed to killing Echo. I only get to see her when my parents let her visit Grandma, which isn’t often. You’d love her. She’s stubborn and wild and fierce. So much personality in such a little person.”
“How does she seem?” I ask, afraid for the environment this child is being raised in.
“Better than me,” Phantom replies, correctly guessing the meaning behind my question. “I think my parents gave up on the whole child prodigy thing after they’d failed so remarkably with me. My dad went to rehab for a while too. Grandma says he’s been sober for five years now, so there’s that.” Phantom makes several sweeping brush strokes before continuing. “They’re still not perfect people, and definitely not perfect parents, but they seem to be doing better by her at least. Grandma promised me she’d make sure of it, so for now, that’s good enough for me.”
I wince against the twinge in my heart. That sounds like the life Phantom should’ve had. Their parents should have been trying their best for them too.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” I say earnestly.
In an incredulous tone, they ask, “You want to meet her?”
