I bite my bottom lip as I think. Come to think of it, I was pretty stressed then, too.
“So, it’s just when you get stressed that it acts up?”
“Yes. If it’s a problem…” He snaps annoyed.
“It’s not… not a problem,” I stammer as guilt fills me for bringing this up. “Its just, you mentioned at
the awards dinner that you had been focused on the dark result.” He frowns.
“And…” I swallow nervously as I speak way too fast to try and cover up my reasoning. “If you suffer
from depression, I would like to know about it.”
My eyes search his for a ck and white answer.
“What if I do?” he asks.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter, but at least I will be aware of it.” I hesitate. “That’s all. It changes
nothing between us. It doesn’t change who you are.”
He smirks and hands me my tea. “Thank you, that’s good to know. But no, I don’t have depression or a
mental health issue.”
I smirk.
“Yet.” He widens his eyes to entuate his point. “Although, you may have been sent here to drive me
pletely insane.”
I smile into my tea as I blow on it. If only he knew that he has already driven me around the twist. I sit
down at the bench next to him and we drink our tea.
“So, what have you been doing while we were apart?” he asks.
I shrug. “Umm, going out.” I smirk. “A lot of drinking.” His eyes hold mine as I see something cross
his face, a question.
“What is it?” I ask.
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“What question did you want to just ask me?” “Have you…?” He hesitates and blows into his tea.
“Have I what?”
“Been with anyone.”Content held by N?velDrama.Org.
I screw up my face. “You must be joking.” He looks at me nkly.
I smile broadly. “No.” I frown. Hang on a second. “Why, have you?”
He shakes his head. “No, I haven’t.” Relief fills me and I drink my tea. “Oh, and I have been drawing
and writing a bit.”
“Drawing? What kind of drawing?” He frowns.
I shrug like a silly school girl. “I don’t know, just random stuff. The drawings aren’t very good, but I
have never wanted to do anything like this before. I’m kind of enjoying it, actually.”
He smiles into his drink.
“What have you been doing?” I ask.
“Working and…” His face lights up. “I have something to show you.” He stands and grabs my hand,
leading me through the house and up the stairs until we arrive at his bedroom. We walk in and I stop dead
in my tracks.
Holy Fuck.
A huge vision of myself is staring down at me from above his bed. The painting of the beautiful
woman has now been reced by a painting of me. My eyes turn to star as he stares lovingly up at the
portrait.
“You painted this?” I ask in shock.
“Aye, I did,” he answers dreamily.
I put my hands over my mouth. I don’t know whether to be ttered or horrified. “Oh my God.” My
eyes flick to his face. “You are so talented,” I whisper. This painting is so lifelike it looks like a photo. I
walk over to it and run my finger over the painting. I can feel the brushstrokes. Shit, it is actually a
painting. I don’t frigging believe this.
My wide eyes meet his. “Why would you want a picture of me over your bed?”
He smiles lovingly and takes me into his arms. “I wouldn’t want any other woman hanging over my
bed when it is you that I think about.” He kisses me as my brain malfunctions.
This man, this beautiful man…
“How long did it take you to paint?” I ask as I stare up at the painting over his shoulder.
“About six weeks.” I smirk and my eyes don’t leave the painting, I’m in shock.
“I wanted to paint the one where your breasts were exposed but I didn’t think you would like it.” He
smirks cheekily. My eyes widen. “I would have killed you. Nobody should have to be put through seeing
that.”
His lips drop to my neck and dust up and down its length. “I love your body,” he whispers into my
skin. “I dream about your body.”
I smile at the ceiling like a love struck fool.