"I want your gaze to devour me like this all the time."
It was that bad?
Her eyes were betraying her that much?!
They weren't even keeping anything a secret from him, instead they were boldly betraying their owner, not even trying to hold back.
She let out a shaky breath, observing now that the only thing stopping him from slamming himself against her was the paintbrush and palette occupying his hands, but he could easily get rid of that and before he would start thinking of ways to make 'the look in her eyes' last longer, she would have to move away from him.
Create a distraction.
She tried to look over his shoulder at his painting, but that was impossible nevertheless, she feigned an expression like she could see what was on the canvas.
"That looks good." She complimented in a breath and took a turn around him, taking a step back and slipping away from his front to see what was on the canvas.
It was just paint and paint, and mixtures of different paints all over the canvas.
Her brows furrowed and she tried to think of what next to say now.
How was she do go on about taking about this thing that she didn't understand?
"I can feel the life." She offered with a grin. "The color, the blend. A masterpiece."
He stared back at her, biting back a smile.
"Is that what your thought process says?"
She nodded.
"They say more," she paused.
That wasn't a lie.
They were saying more about how she didn't understand what this was or what this was supposed to look like.
She tilted her head to different directions, to get what this was supposed to be, but still, it seems to not to be whatever it was her mind could come up with.
What was this?
"Thoughts about it being a masterpiece in many words than I can say."
He grinned from ear to ear.
"Once it is dry, I will send it to your room for you to hang it up." He took a closer look at the painting. "A masterpiece, you say?"
"Uh-uh." She hummed, beating herself up mentally for the consequences of her lie. Now she would have to look qt this everyday without knowing what it meant.
"I must say though, I did not consider it a masterpiece. This is not in line with my art. I do not even understand it. I was painting mindlessly without having an intent of what it would come out as in mind." He paused. "I am glad you like."
She nodded.
Whew! So even he didn't understand it. That made her feel a bit better.
Feeling nervous with how his gaze had moved to her again, his attention on her, her feet carried her to the others and she toyed with the cloth before pulling them off.
"I wonder what is here." The cloth slid off and the black cat that stared back at her from the canvas almost made her jump.
It looked really alive, like it could step out of the canvas and just walk around.
"A cat? I didn't know you like cats. I never took you as a pet person. I thought your only interest would be your dragon."
He smiled. "That is not what this is about."
"What then?"
Was there any implied meaning to this that she was missing?
"It looks really alive! You are talented with your hands." She complimented mindlessly, as she stared intently at the painting.
"There are several other talents I have with it that I cannot explore."
What artistic skill was he referring to this time?
"What?"
He came up behind her, the heat from his body engulfing her, although they were in no way pressed against each other.
"Touch." He said in a quiet voice, a defeated confession.
His hands moved across the canvas and she observed something that she had stopped observing because by now it just seemed like a part of him.
Those leather gloves on his hand.
He swiped his hand against the painting slowly.
"For all things living die at my touch."
She remembered the horror those gloves his away and her heart clenched at his pain.
"For how long?"
For how long had he been living like this? For how long had he been forced to not feel things. For how long as the fear of ceasing lives by his touch tormented him? For how long had he been deprived of the thing she had and many other had the luxury to experience?
For how long?
He sighed, his hand dropping from the canvas. "It has been so long I can not even remember how they feel like."
"I can tell you." She felt him go still behind her but it was hard to detect why. "Show me everything and I will tell you how they feel like."
"I do not think that is a good idea."
"Why not? I am pretty good at my descriptions."
"I don't think you will like--"
"Cats feels furry." She cut him off before he would have the chance to turn her down any further. "Soft furs. Like different furs."
She waited, wanting his approval but not wanting to have to turn around and look at his face to seek and get it.
"You are not very good at this, not as good as you claim." His voice finally broke the silence and she smiled.
She wasn't.
She knew.
But he had not stated his objection again, that meant that she could continue.
She wanted to find out everything he wanted to touch and once the Red Moon was over, she would gift them to him one by one so he could touch them all, or just rent them for it. She would find a way but for that to happen, she must know what he wanted to touch first.
"Well, this is my first time. You will have to take what you get." She shrugged.
She moved quickly to the next stand, pulling the cloth off.
"A fish." She paused, then spoke. "Slippery, wet and the water feeling." She shuddered as a memory pass through her. "Smells very fishy too."
Eli chuckled. "You are terrible at this."
"Stop judging me, this is my first time." She feigned to be hurt and moved on to the next.
"Next." She went on and on, expecting that one of this would be his dragon but they were at the last stand and it had turned out to be a horse. She concluded that his dragon must be immune to his death touch and that was why it wasn't here.
"A horse." She hummed, thinking. "Furry too but not like cat furry. Sharper."
"Very detailed." He hummed in response behind her.
She was was enjoying this way too much to stop but the stands were over, so she looked around in search of what to move on to.
The scrolls piled up on the table!
Without saying a word, she went there.
"I think you should put those down."
"Why?" She asked with a grin. "What, you don't enjoy my very detailed lesson? You don't feel captured in he moment by my words."
He was by the desk now, by her side.
"I always feel captured in the moment by you but I do not really think these scrolls will interest you. They are rather peesonal."
"Alright then. I will not intrude." She started stretching it to him and he relaxed, glad that he would not have to take it from her with force or tricks. But she snapped her fingers back and his ease made him slow to react.
With quick hand movements, she unrolled the scroll. Her childlish excitement reducing to a calm surprise.
"This is me." She said, staring at the painting that looked back at her with those electric blue eyes she possessed. She was in a rather skimpy dress. The shortest dress she would ever imagine herself being in.
"Yes." He frowned, looking at the piled up scrolls, then his frown eased a little as he looked from the painting in her hand to her. With a defeated sigh, he added, "I want to touch you."