(Damian's POV)
For a long time I said nothing, but simply stare at the canvas in from of me.
Behind me Sapphire stood as still as a rock, and I could hear her breathing. Uneven and nervous as if she was waiting for a verdict.
The air in this studio was thick with colors and emotions. Things I never particularly cared for.
Art had never meant much to me.
Until now…
My gaze slowly moved over the painting.
It was unmistakably me.
It wasn't the carefully constructed image the world saw in boardrooms, newspaper and television.
No, this was a darker, rawer version of me.
There was something in my gaze that was dark and dangerous.
Hmm. Was this how she saw me?
Behind me, she shifted nervously. I was probably taking too long to say anything and it was making her nervous.
"You painted this today?" I asked.
"Yes."
Her voice was small.
I studied the brushstrokes. Some places were confident, some more thoughtful.
As though she had been studying the subject for a long time.
"You said you weren't painting anything important." My voice was almost accusatory.
I don't know why that annoyed me.
"I didn't know what I was painting." She replied quickly. "I was just working."
I slightly turned and glanced at her over my shoulder.
"You expect me to believe that?"
She flushed instantly.
"It's true."
I turned back to the canvas.
Artists were dangerous creatures.
They saw too much.
They saw things people did not intend to reveal.
Which was precisely why they were dangerous.
Yet this painting did not feel invasive.
If anything…
It felt strangely accurate.
That realization annoyed me.
"You captured the eyes wrong." I pointed out, knowing for a fact that I was bluffing.
She blinked.
"No, I didn't."
"You disagree?"
"Totally." Her voice had gained a hint of confidence. "You look like that sometimes."
"Like what?" My curiosity was piqued.
"Like…"she hesitated.
"Like what, Sapphire?"
"Like you are carrying something. A burden."
My expression hardened.
They saw too much.
"I didn't mean…" she had noticed my face.
"You meant exactly what you said, Sapphire. Do not apologize for it."
She pressed her lips together and said nothing more.
Silence filled the studio.
I looked back at the painting.
My father used to say that the most dangerous people were the ones who watched quietly.
They noticed things others ignored.
And this woman…my wife…she was beginning to notice things about me that very few people ever had.
And this made her dangerous.
This was not something to be left unchecked.
Yet I found myself strangely pleased with the outcome.
"Your technique is…okay."
Her head lifted slightly in surprise.
"That's the first compliment you've given me, ever."
"It wasn't a compliment, Sapphire. It was an observation."
She grinned. What was there to grin about?
"Okay."
"You painted this without realizing you were painting me…"
"Yes…?"
"Does that not concern you?" I wondered.
"Should it?"
"Do not use questions to answer my questions, wife." I snapped.
I watched uncomfortably as she bowed her head a little bit in submission.
"It doesn't bother me, husband." She replied quietly.
It should, because it meant I had occupied her mind more than she had realized.
But I didn't say that.
Looking around the room, I began to weigh my decisions in life.
At the time, granting her request about owning a home art studio had seemed like a harmless indulgence, but now it looked like I had accidentally given her a weapon.
Because she was seeing too much already.
"Make sure this painting never leaves this room. Do you understand?" I warned.
A look that resembled relief passed through her blue eyes.
"Of course. No one must see it." She smiled unsurely.
Good.
"And clean the floor."
She looked at the place where she had smeared her paint earlier when I had startled her.
She nodded quickly as I turned and walked out of the studio.
I needed to distract myself from those ocean eyes of hers.
Get a grip, man.
______________
The house was very quiet when I reached the library that night.
Just how I liked it.
It was eleven thirty exactly. Good.
Fernandez was somewhere around me, I couldn't see him, but I could feel him.
"Get me a glass of water, Fernandez." I said into the darkness.
"You got it, boss." He replied at once as a shadow moved from my left.
Very efficient.
Sitting down, I delved into my work immediately.
When he came with the water, I didn't move.
Few minutes after he left, the library door opened again.
"Any problem, Fernan…?
I paused, because standing right in front of the shut door wasn't my bodyguard, but the last person I had expected to see again tonight.
"Um, I'm five eight, and I don't have a beard, neither am I huge." My wife giggled nervously.
I just stared at her.
"Okayyy, I'll just go back. Good night." She added when I didn't reply to her attempt at a joke.
"You came to read?" I asked quickly. Perhaps too quick.
"Yes."
"Then stay."
She nodded and sat opposite me.
I sighed and went back to my work.
When next I raised my head up, she was reading with all amount of focus.
It was disturbingly distracting, her face.
"What are you reading?" I asked.
"A romance novel. Do you read novels?"
"No." I frowned.
She giggled at whatever look of disgust she saw on my face.
"You should, though. It's not that bad."
I didn't say anything.
But I don't think I could have replied even if I wanted to, because my mind was far gone.
She stopped giggling. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Come here, Sapphire." My voice had gone low.
She stood up and walked over.
Very submissive, good.
"Sit." I patted my thigh.
She looked at me, then look down at where I had indicated for her to sit, "huh." Her face was beetroot red.
"I will not repeat myself."
She swallowed and sat at once.
I almost let out a sigh as soon as I felt her buttocks on my lap.
"Why do you have to be so distracting?" I hissed and adjusted myself.
"I'm sorry." She whispered unsurely.
"Don't be. I like it." I whispered back and brought my head down.
But just as our lips were about to touch each other, the library door was thrown wide open.