Possession by Johnson A.M

Author:Johnson, A.M.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: A.M. Johnson
Published: 2017-02-13T16:00:00+00:00

The door clicked shut behind me as I walked into the studio. Declan was already there, dressed in torn jeans that hugged his thighs and a tight, white t-shirt. His skin always looked so touchable next to the soft white of cotton. He was pulling out my supplies, but his work stool was empty.

“Hi.” The syllable was meek as I approached him.

We’d started something again, I wasn’t sure where it would go, but the relief I felt in his presence was more than I had ever received while on my knees in prayer.

He took my hand in his and the calm I’d been craving all day trickled down my spine. “Hey.”

I reveled in the feel of his hand, and I took a moment to admire his work. I’d not had a chance lately to really see it up close, because I’d been too enveloped in my own work. His painting, it was raw and real and stunning. The texture was thick with surreal strokes and lines that blurred but blended into each other in a perfect dance. The center piece, my eyes, encased by trees, surrounded by giant swirls of dark grays and purples. Each whorl was its own cosmos encased by tiny specks of yellow… stars.

I felt breathless as I let the intricate details soak my vision. “Declan, this is so much more than beautiful.”

His eyes filled with an ocean of blue. It was unnerving and familiar at the same time, watching him melt in front of me, watching the life of the boy I used to know color his cheeks.

He was quiet and let me admire the pieces of his soul that had been splashed onto the canvas.

“This should be in a museum, lit for everyone to see. Are there more?”

He nodded.

“I’d… I’d like to see them sometime… if that’s okay?”

“Most of my work is dark, you might not like what you see.” His jaw pulsed slightly, but I smiled through the nerves.

“I’ve always liked your dark, Declan.”

He squeezed my hand and said, “If we finish up a little early we could swing by my place, all my paintings and drawings are there. I try to frame the most important ones.”

“I’d love to.” I let my eyes linger on his painting for a few seconds before I met his gaze. The air between us seemed to fill with static, and the scent of him, the strength of his fingers wrapped with mine, made my heart feel hollow and full at the same time and it beat with uncertainty as his lips spread slowly into a grin. A grin I knew, a grin that transferred heat from his body to mine.

He looked down at our tangled fingers. “Should we paint?”

His voice was firm and strong and sure and I hoped that we would eventually, fully mend our broken hearts. I wanted him to look at me like this again and again. The idea of us was a treacherous river to forge, and our past, a rushing rapid, eager to tear us apart, ready to shred away our skin and bare our bones.

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