Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, but I surely enjoy writing about these characters.
Summary: He was a highly paid and respected artist whose lost his inspiration...that is, until he found her. He offered to pay her for her time if she would model for him, naked. Suddenly the relationship moves beyond artist and model. He wanted her in every part of his life. He wanted to keep her forever, but did she want the same? And was his past going to catch up with and chase her away?
Rated M: For nudity and maturity
The Artist
By TiKanis
Chapter One
A stranger's request
The nightclub was the last place he wanted to be in. Unfortunately, it was the only place opened at 2am. Normally, when he couldn't sleep, he would take a swim in a pool, or take a walk around the neighborhood, but it was raining and the pool had been closed off for its regular maintenance cleaning.
So he walked into the nightclub, pushed through the crowd of sweaty people, and sat in a booth, in the darkest corner of the club. He was pretty sure he was going to leave the club with a headache, not with tiredness. But what could he do? Staying in his apartment suffocated him more than being in the club.
He remembered a time when clubbing and drinking was all he did. That was back during his teenage and college years. At twenty-nine, he was a respected and highly paid artist, and one hundred percent sober for the past four years.
Was being the keyword. He hadn't completed one piece of artwork in the past year. His inspiration was gone. His love for art was ripped out of his soul, just as was his heart when she took the only thing he cared about most in the world.
The mere thought of her made his blood boil.
He didn't know what to do anymore nor where to go. He was alone and depressed. How was he going to get himself out of this darkness? He had no family, and no friends—true friends. His so called "friends" only hung out with him for his fame and money.
The great Sasuke Uchiha was nothing but an empty shell of a body, walking around, hopeless.
"Helloooo."
He felt a nudge on his shoulder and straightened up in his seat. "What?" he asked as he looked up at the girl that had a pen and notepad in hand.
"I've been standing here for a long ass time, trying to get your attention, now what do you want to drink?" the girl replied with a huff.
He couldn't make out her features in the darkened room, nor could he hear her well due to the loud techno music, but her eyes glistened in the dark, and they were marvelous.
He never met someone with such a color. They were green as emerald.
He watched as her arms crossed over her chest and her weight shifted to one leg. "Well, what is it going to be?"
"A Coke," he finally answered, forgetting that she was there to take his order.
"A Coke with rum or….?" she waited for another response.
He cleared his throat. "Just a coke…actually just make it a bottle of water, the less caffeine, the better."
She waited for a moment longer to see if he would change his response. His dark look unnerved her. "Okay then, be right back."
He hadn't realized he had been at such unease until she walked away. He relaxed his body and hunched his shoulders. He found himself doing something he hadn't done in months—he was thinking of his next art piece. His mind roamed at different ways he would capture those eyes on paper. He would start off with a quick pencil sketch, but use acrylic paints to capture all the color, or maybe use oil paints. But oil paints take long to dry with each layer, so acrylic would be better. But should he be able to take a picture of her, then he would take his time with the oil paints. A picture? Would she allow him to take a picture? He could explain it was for his artwork. She would understand, right?
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the bottle of water that was placed in front of him.
"You are one weird man, you know that right?" the gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Nevermind," she said. "The water's on the house."
He took his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill.
"I said it was on the house—as in it's free," she replied with a huff. She seemed to have a habit of huffing and getting annoyed fast.
"Nothings free in this world," he said, grabbing the water bottle as he walked away.
He rushed out of the club and sped to his apartment down seven blocks. He had to get home before he lost his inspiration to pick up a brush and paint.
She watched him walk away, and kept watching until he was no longer in sight. "What a creep," she mused and picked up the money he had left. "What the fuck?" she gasped as she saw the amount written on the paper. Who on earth pays for water with a hundred dollar bill and not ask for change back? Did he expect her to keep 98 dollars as tip?
Jesus, what a night. She was tired as hell, and now she had to find a way to return the money back to the weirdo. There was no way she was keeping it. He might decide to come back and ask for "favors" as all the sleazy old men did.
He didn't look old, and he was far from looking sleazy. In fact, he looked way too proper. He was just weird.
Sasuke returned to the club the next night. He didn't know what he was looking for. Well, that was slightly incorrect. He knew what he wanted. He wanted the girl. How he went about getting her, he wasn't too sure yet.
How could he explain to her that she was the only inspiration he had found in the past year? That he had started painting her the moment he had arrived home last night? How could he explain to her that he would feel incomplete until he finished the painting and he could only finish it if he saw her again. Maybe she could model for him for a few days?
That was it! She could model for him.
Sasuke had a few models in the past who would sit while he painted them in any way he wanted. But those were just to explore his skills, not to actually put them up for exhibit.
He would love to put paintings of her up in his museum for all to see and admire. He told himself to hold on. He was getting too far ahead of himself. Though even as he spoke, he envisioned it all in his head. The different ways he would paint her. The ways his brush would draw her every curve and illuminate her every color.
That was when the idea came to him. Each artist went through their stages in life. And Sasuke had gone through his happy, angst, sad, emotional stages through the years and he depicted those feelings through sculptures and sketches and paintings.
What he wanted to show now was his desire. That was what he felt the moment he had seen her eyes, only hadn't realized it until he was at home, painting her eyes the way he had remembered them.
He wanted to put her on paper, drawn in various media, in different lighting, and in different locations, with different emotions. He wanted her very soul to be captured by his art.
Most importantly, he wanted her naked. He didn't know where that idea came from but he knew that once the idea came to him, he had to go through with it, it was the only way he could continue painting.
The problem lied in getting her to agree. What if she said no? Then what will he do? Go back to sulking in his apartment, waiting for anther muse to stop by?Nowadays, it was difficult for anyone to find inspiration, especially when it's torn away from you so aggressively, leaving you soulless. So when you find it again, you do your best to keep it.
That was what he had to do, he had to convince her. He would pay her, that always worked. Money solved everything.
First he had to find her.
He walked around the club, aimlessly looking for her, but it was useless. He hadn't seen how she really looked like. He had only seen her eyes. And in this terribly lit club, it was impossible to find her. He sat in the same booth he had sat last night and waited for someone to approach him.
Minutes passed and a waitress stopped by. He had held his breath hoping it was her, but it wasn't. This girl was shorter, even with her heels on, and her eyes were a deep brown.
He was tempted to ask the waitress if she was familiar with the green-eyed girl, but thought best not to. Instead, he asked for his water bottle, and waited.
Two hours passed, and he figured it was time to call it a night. Maybe she didn't work on Friday nights, or maybe she had already left, or maybe she quit, or maybe—okay he had to stop.
Dropping a twenty dollar bill on the table, he walked away. He pushed through the crowd and breathed in the cool night breeze with relief. He started walking down the road when someone called after him.
"Hey! You! Wait up!"
"Sakura!" the girl in question turned and glanced at her co-worker. "You're late!"
"You don't have to be so loud about it," she remarked at the brunette.
"Dude, there's some hot guy sitting in booth twenty-two, and all he kept ordering was water. I must've given him four already. It's like he's waiting for somebody, but I have no idea who. It's real sketchy though. I tried to make conversation with him…you know, a little flirting here and there," she said with a wink. "And nothing! So finally I gave up and left him."
Sakura looked to the booth in question and saw a dark figure get up to leave. The same dark figure from last night. What the hell is the weirdo doing here? she thought. She guessed that didn't really concern her, what mattered was that she owed him money and this might be her only chance to give it back to him.
"Hey cover me for a few," she requested.
"No way, you just got here—"
"Don't make me remind you of all the times I busted my butt for you," Sakura warned and the girl sighed.
"Fine."
Sakura rushed away, hoping to catch up to the guy. She thought she had lost him until she saw him walking about a block down to the left of the club.
"Hey! You! Wait up!" she called after him. The figure stopped and turned. For a second, Sakura contemplated whether or not it was really him, but then as she stepped closer, she recognized his spiky hair. Yeah, definitely him.
The guy looked surprised to see her, which in turn made her more curious about him. He was strange, but not the creepy kind, more like the mysterious kind. She met her share of creepy and he wasn't one of them.
"Um, hi," she said once she reached him. It looked like he was going to say something, but she quickly interjected. "So last night, you paid for the water, even after I said it was free," she raised her index finger to keep him from talking. "Let me finish—not only did you pay for it, but you seriously overpaid. So…" She paused as she looked down at her overexposed cleavage and dug into her bra. "Sorry, the skirts they make us wear don't have any pockets," she apologized as she held out the rolled up money.
She watched him eye her, as if he finally was getting a good look at her. It made her feel uncomfortable. She's had plenty of guys at the club gawk at her and even dare slap her butt a few times, but his staring was a different kind. It was like he was memorizing her look.
"Just take it," she waved the money so he would get the point. He didn't respond, just kept staring. "Look, I don't know what game you're playing, or why you're looking at me as if you are undressing me—it's honestly awkward, I get enough of those looks inside the club, and I'm definitely not the type of girl you leave this much of a tip and expect some sort of bonus favors back, okay? So just take the money and go home."
This time, she didn't wait for a response. She simply closed the distance between them, grabbed his hand and put the money in his hand. "Okay?" she asserted. With a last look, she walked away.
Sasuke couldn't believe it. There she was, but a breath away and he was frozen. All he could do was stare at her and memorize her every feature, just in case she decided to turn him down. She had procelain skin, long pink hair, big green eyes, a plump pink mouth, long dark lashes, a slender neck and delicate shoulders. The red tank top exposed a lot of her medium sized breasts, and stopped at her navel. She had a flat, pale stomach. The black tight leather skirt barely covered half her thighs. She wore black heels, which helped her reach up to his nose; otherwise he was sure she would reach up to his shoulder, making her roughly 5 feet 6 inches, if he wasn't mistaken.
He was drinking all of her in at once and as fast as possible.
It wasn't until she touched his hand did he realize what she was saying to him. She was returning the money back to him. Well, that certainly was a first! Especially from a waitress.
She then preceded to walk away, leaving him with her image embedded in his mind and her soft touch.
"No, wait! Hey, wait," this time, he called after her, causing her to stop and twirl around.
She arched her brow in question. "Yeah?"
"I have a request—"
She threw up her hands and huffed. "Of course you do! You men all have some sort of request! But let me tell you Mr—whatever your name is, I don't play like that, okay? The other waitresses may be all fine and dandy about getting felt up at the bar for some extra tips and mess around in the parking lot, but not me, okay? So just cool it," she warned while jabbing her finger in his chest a few times.
"No, it's not what you think," he said after registering what she was implying, though to be honest, the idea crossed his mind once or twice during the night. But his art was more important than screwing around with her.
She huffed one more time, placing her hands on her hips. The girl sure did a lot of huffing and puffing. "Oh yeah? Then what is it?"
"I'm an artist—"
She laughed with clear sarcasm. "Yeah, and the last guy was a photographer and the guy before that was a prince from Aruba."
He narrowed his eyes at her. She was very distrustful, it seemed.
"My name is Sasuke Uchiha, and what I need is a model. I will pay you a head of time, it's only for a few days," he countered.
It seemed like she was finally taking a good look at him, probably trying to make sure he wasn't some rapist trying to wheel her down a dark alley.
"Honestly, I'm not sure who that is, or if that really is you, I'm new to this city. All I know is there are plenty of other girls that will be more than willing to model for you," she replied and turned to walk away from him again.
He walked in step with her. "If you give me a moment, I'll explain why it has to be you," he pleaded. He hated begging, it was so below him, but he didn't want to lose her so easily.
"Alright, you have two minutes," she said with a sigh as she looked at her wrist watch. It was a feeble leather watch, probably not even worth ten dollars. She didn't have jewelry on either. He wondered what kind of life she lived. She returned his money without a moment's hesitation, so it clearly showed she wasn't money hungry. But then again, everyone hid their true intentions.
"I haven't painted one single thing in over a year, and then I saw you last night and I got my inspiration back to paint—but I want to paint you, only you. I know it must be hard to comprehend and I'm not very good at explaining it, other then telling you that if I don't start painting again, I may just lose it, and I can't let that happen. So here—" he paused, pulled out his wallet. He took out one of his gallery business cards and handed it to her. "You can find me there during most days, if not, just leave a message with any of the art coordinators there and they'll contact me."
She eyed him carefully. "You're dead serious about this?"
He nodded, "Hn."
"Okay, and let's say I believe all of this, and I agree. What kind of modeling am I doing?"
Damn, this was the tough part. But he might as well tell her now, save him future trouble and denial. "I would be painting you nude—"
He was cut off by her abrupt, nervous laugh. "Ha! You're insane, you know that right? Last night I thought you were just weird, and not too long ago I thought you might just be mysteriously confused stranger, but now I know you're completely insane!"
Sasuke was prepared for the reaction when he replied, "I will pay one thousand a day, for possibly a week, depending on how the first day goes."
"A th-thousand?" she stuttered, total shock written on her face.
Money always was the answer, he knew.
He nodded.
She straightened her composure and brushed her hair behind her ears. "Thanks, Mr. Uchiha—if that in fact is your name, but I have to decline, I can't," she handed the card back, which he was reluctant to take back and walked away.
This time, he didn't stop her.
But damn, he wasn't pleased about it either.
She couldn't believe she was doing it. She was walking into Sharigan Museum of Art and was looking for him.
She had gone home that night, thought about his offer and she kept declining it in her head over and over. That was until two weeks later, when a guy felt the need to grope her in the club. She finally had enough of piece of shits like him. She needed money, and no one was going to hire a college dropout. She had loans to pay, hospital bills to pay, and the list went on. The tips were really good at the club, but she couldn't lower herself to such low standards anymore. She was better than that.
She received the best offer ever. One thousand dollars per day, for possibly a week. That was seven thousand, quick and easy money! Even if it was a temporary thing, it was way more than she'll ever make in this club.
At what expense though? She would have to model nude for an artist. What if he got too touchy, and took advantage of her? For that very concern, she decided to do all the possible research she could on Sasuke Uchiha.
He was twenty-nine year old, highly paid artist that lived in the high end part of town. He had million dollar friends, and had charities in his name. He had his own museum that showcased various artist work, and most if not all proceeds went to charities of many kinds.
There were no police reports or bad news anywhere. What if he had them erased? He had plenty of money to hide any bad rep from the news.
If all she had to do was sit there, naked, while he painted, that shouldn't be too bad. She'd seen some movies where an artist requests to have a nude model, though in those situations, the model falls in love with the artist and they end up having sex, but the artist always has someone hiding, like a wife or a girlfriend.
Okay, she was over thinking it now. Those were just movies.
She walked through the museum, gazing at the artwork, none of which had his name on it. She wondered if he had his own personal showcasing somewhere.
Her old scruffy sneakers squeaked on the marble floor. She should've probably dressed a little better, she thought to herself as she saw the other people that were in there, all dressed in cocktail dresses and suits, where as she was in washed out baggy jeans and black tank top. Her hair up in a high ponytail and she didn't wear any makeup.
She didn't fit in with this crowd of people, and she most importantly didn't fit in with Sasuke Uchiha. What was she thinking? Was she really going to sit on a pedestal, naked, while he gawked at her for hours and painted? What if he didn't like her body? Gosh, she would be mortified if once she was naked in front of him, he would change his mind.
Just as she was turning to walk away from the sculpture showcase, and leave the museum all together, she heard his voice from afar. Her heart beat increased.
Sasuke was leading a group of potential investors through the museum, showing them where the new sculpture showcase was being organized when he saw her, standing there, looking as if she were in deep thought.
He nearly laughed at how innocent she looked compared to her look at the club. Without all that makeup she looked so angelic. He felt a weird feeling develop at the pit of his stomach as she caught his gaze.
The investors continued talking among themselves as they pointed at various sculptures. He excused himself and walked toward her. He tried his best to hide his surprise in seeing her. He hadn't heard from her in two weeks, so he doubted she would ever contact him. He had gone back to brooding around his studio, trying to find some sort of inspiration, but nothing. It could only come from her.
And here she was, in his gallery, looking nothing like that vixen he had met in the club. He wondered which he preferred more. The angel or the devil? Maybe he could paint them both. He would enjoy that.
"It's nice to see you," he said in greeting, leaving a foot in distance between them.
She chuckled lowly, she was nervous, it was easy to tell. "I guess…well…I thought about it, your offer that is."
Sasuke didn't think the girl could be so hesitant, not after the way she spoke to him that night. So in control and demanding. Right now she was just a little girl. He wondered if he intimidated her by his physique.
He got his answer when she kept avoiding his eyes.
"And?" he inquired, fire already igniting within him. His mind was already spinning with ideas of how he wanted to start with her. First he would go with a few sketches, to get familiar with her body, then he would draw with charcoal to get used to how the light touched her body, and then he would paint her.
"I'll try it, then. One day only. And if that goes well, then we can try another, but I can't promise that I will be willing to do more than a day," she proposed, this time straightening up her composure to meet his gaze.
He outreached his hand toward her and she shook it in agreement. "Sounds like a deal to me," he said with a hint of a smile creeping at the edge of his lips. He hadn't smiled in so long, it felt weird that he wanted to smile now, but it never made it far past a small smirk.
"Right…okay then, I guess I'll go now," she said and walked past him.
He quickly took out another business card and jotted down his studio address. He quickened his pace to catch up with her. She was a fast walker. "Hey, here, I'll meet you tomorrow at six," he said and handed her the card.
She looked wearily at the card and questioned the timing. "You don't mean the morning, right?"
"Yes, six in the morning to six in the evening. That's twelve hours for a thousand. If you don't want to continue after that, that's fine. If you do, then we'll make better arrangements where it's a few days a week for a couple of hours, deal?"
Sakura simply nodded. "Fine…yeah, that's fine. Bye then." She walked away quickly.
She was in his studio. Damn, it was a big freaking studio. There were papers every where, from all sizes, not to mention all the canvases that lined the walls. There were many tables, randomly placed in the room, each had drawers, and in those drawers were tubes of paints of all colors and all brands. There were sharperners lying everywhere along with erasers and pencils and rulers. This guy practically had an art store in this room.
Sakura opened yet another cabinet, and was greeted with more paint. "This guy hoards paint," she mumbled.
"Not necessarily, I give away whatever I don't use every few months, and buy new ones as I go," the man in question said from his spot near the easel, which had a giant white, blank paper pad on it.
Sasuke sat on his wooden stool and let her look around his studio. He wanted to her be comfortable being here, especially being here with him. He let her go through every drawer and she had a remark for everything. A few times he had to keep himself from laughing at her expressions.
"Do you really need so many sharpeners? Just buy an electric one," she had said earlier when she had stepped onto one. She had kept her shoes by the door, preferring to walk barefoot. He had warned her she may step on a lot of stuff, especially lead, she didn't seem to care.
"Hand sharpeners seem to work better," he had replied and she had shrugged, seeing no difference.
"Well, it sure is a nifty place you got here," she summed up after going through the last of his cabinets. "I especially like the glass roof, but aren't you afraid the glass might break on top of you?" she inquired while staring up at the twenty-foot high ceiling.
"Not at all, I had it all replaced and the glass is pretty thick."
"Of course," she remarked. "And I'm sure you get great natural lighting from that ceiling."
He chuckled, "Indeed."
She wasted at least an hour going through all his things; and now came time for her to come to him.
She circled around him, walking in slow pace. He was wearing a white v-neck short sleeved shirt and black sweats with sneakers. Nothing fancy, yet she was sure those clothes cost him a few hundred dollars, compared to her own old Superman t-shirt and cut up jeans.
"So I suppose you want to start now."
"Whenever you're ready," he replied smoothly, his eyes on her at all times as she continued to circle around him.
"Right…so where do you want me?"
He pointed at the table in front of the easel.
"So you want me to just sit there or something?"
Sasuke sighed, not sure himself. If it were up to him, he would have her strip naked and lay down on a bed for him so could paint her with red satin sheets all around her. But he didn't want to scare her away so quickly.
"Let's just start with your clothes on, okay? I'll just do some sketches of your face."
"Okay!" she was pleased with the idea. She was afraid he would automatically have her undress herself. Even though she was here, in the studio with him, she was still holding back. She might decide that she couldn't do it after all. So starting off slowly worked for her.
She sat on the edge of the table, letting her legs swing back and forth and waited for him to give her some sort of direction, but he didn't.
She could see his shoulder and part of his face from behind the easel. She could tell he was already drawing. What if she kept changing facial expressions, would that ruin his sketch? If that caused any problems for him, he didn't say anything to make her stop.
Half an hour passed and she watched him flip through a number of pages. Damn, either he's really good, or he was drawing stick figures of me, she thought with a tad bit of amusement.
A few times during the next few hours, he asked her to look in a certain direction, or make a certain expression, sometimes he'd have her sit there with her eyes closed, which made her feel weird.
Around 10am, he told her she could take a break and provided her a sandwich, in which she happily accepted. She hadn't realized how hungry she was, nor did she realize that he was sketching her in a small sketchbook as she ate.
"Do you really need to do that now?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
He shrugged in response and continued drawing.
"Will I be able to see them—the drawings I mean, when we are done?"
Sasuke didn't raise his head as he spoke. "No, that's not part of the deal."
"Oh, so there are rules to the deal?" Well, that was news to her. She assumed she just had to sit there. She didn't think he had certain rules for her to abide by.
He nodded.
"What other rules do you have then?"
"No one else can paint you or photograph you, you're mine only," he replied, focused on his sketch of her mouth.
She laughed. "Oh please, as if I'd agree to do this with anyone else."
He put his pencil down and closed his book. "You'd be surprised how many offers you will get if someone finds out you are working for me under such circumstances. So I trust that you will keep to that rule from now on, even if you stay with me for just today, I don't want anyone else using you."
Sakura was taken back with how serious he was being. Had something similar happened to him before? Had someone stolen his artistic object or idea before? Well, either way, she had no plans in doing this with anyone. She just wanted to get through the day and get away from his roaming eyes. It was awkward having him stare at her for so long. She was pretty sure by now he had her faced memorized and embedded in his mind forever.
"Truly, I have no intentions of doing this with anyone, in anyway," she assured him and he nodded contently with her response.
And then came the moment of all truth and test of her courage. She had finished her lunch, and he had set up the easel with another white pad, this one a little smaller. She was able to see over it and meet his eyes, though she had no intention of looking at his piercing eyes. She knew what was coming, but didn't offer to do it without him asking first.
"I'll give you a chance to back out, if you wish. I'll pay you half for the time you were here," he said as he set up all different shades of lead pencil. "I do appreciate the time you've allowed me to draw you so far."
Sakura was stunned a little by his gentleness. For a man that looked dark and evil, he sure was nice. He walked to the table she had sat on and pushed it aside, replacing it with a stool similar to his. He returned to his stool behind the easel and she noticed that he was sketching her again.
She let out an uneasy sigh as she clenched her shirt in her hands and lifted it over her head, letting it fall to the floor.
Sasuke bit the bottom of his lip, not expecting her to actually go through with it. His hand dropped from the pad, pencil loosely in his hand as he watched her lift the blue shirt over her head, revealing a simple white bra.
Man, was this a mistake? He wondered, feeling his body react to her in a way he hadn't expected. He saw the light shade of blush appear on her cheeks as she took a seat on the stool, her back facing him. He watched as her hands reached behind her back and unclasped the hook. She slipped one hand through the strap, and then the other and let it fall to the floor near her shirt. She combed her hair to one side of her shoulder, exposing all of her creamy white back to him.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather continue on a slow pace with you," she said over her shoulder.
"Hn." He approved and fumbled with his pencil as he started with another sketch.
As he sketched the curve of back, he imagined running his hand down her back, tracing her every curve.
He knew he was in danger now. He didn't think he would have such thoughts about his model. Especially not on the first day. But she was different. She was honest and was straightforward. She said it like it was, and didn't hold back. She saw one painting he had left near the door and had said it was the ugliest thing she had ever seen. Many critics had said it was amazing, but he knew it was because no one wanted to displease him, he had a lot of money invested in many things. But she straight out told him it was a piece of shit and no way could be worth fifty grand.
He in turn had laughed and said it was worth fifty-one now, explaining that his artwork gained worth as he got older.
She laughed at that theory and remarked that she should've become an artist then. She was sure her stick figures would've been just as good as that black canvas with patches of red painted splattered on it.
He hadn't laughed so much in months. But there he was, laughing at her smart remarks.
After tonight, he hoped she would remain with him. He was sure she would save him from his misery, he would bet his fortune on it.
