Show the World (Inside of You)

by DarkPoisonousLove

Griffin never wanted to be a model but in the name of her dreams she's willing to deal not only with fashion but also with the person who understands it. However, Valtor also seems to understand her, as impossible as that seemed at first, and she has to ask herself if he's still simply the designer of her nightmare or he could help her create the fairytale she'd always dreamed of.

A/N: This was not supposed to happen, then it was supposed to be short, and then I just gave up on confining it in any way since the idea ran away from me and I decided to catch up with it and run with it instead of trying to stop it. I really loved it so I had to write it all out. I hope you'll like it too. :)

She never wanted this.

She never tried to starve herself so that she could be thin enough to be a model. She simply forgot to eat most of the time driven by her passion to explore that rarely let her sit still and always had her mind occupied with a question getting the answer to which would prove to be a challenge. She was running on excitement which was why that job was proving to be a bitch.

She never tried to grow her hair long to impress anyone. She just loved the feel of the purple tresses between her fingers and how good her hair looked in the voluptuous braid her mother would arrange it in, especially when she'd add flowers from their own garden to adorn it. She couldn't stand the tons of hair products they kept dumping on her before every fashion show that made her want to pull her scalp off long before the show was over and had her spending hours in the shower after she was finally done.

She never tried to make her posture elegant or graceful or demanding respect. She only refused to bend before the obstacles in her way and held her head high every time something tried to pull her off the path she'd chosen for herself. But no one decided her fate for her so she only had herself to blame for her current situation. Herself and her passion for the night sky. And Faragonda. Definitely Faragonda.

Her friend had convinced her of the impossible by making her agree to work as a model but she was only doing it for her dreams. She had the qualities to make it in the fashion world and also had the intelligence to see that if she went through that hell she could get enough funds to conduct her own independent research in the field of astronomy. And she had a friend who had the connections to get her an interview for a position that would pay enough to make it worth all that she had to go through. Namely, her new boss.

"How about dinner? Tonight?" Valtor asked, so smug when he'd interrogated her thoroughly about her reasons to work for him as a model and she'd told him the truth since she didn't want him thinking she enjoyed being there or had any interest into doing anything other than the basics her job required of her. He held her and her dreams in the palm of his hand and he was so sure she'd have no choice but to accept. He hadn't had the chance to learn the most basic thing about her yet even if it had been a few months since the job interview. But she'd teach him the hard way if he was so adamant to get burned.

"No," Griffin said, catching his eyes in the mirror to let him know he could go to hell. She wouldn't debase herself and sleep with him just because she needed the money. She had a dream, yes, but she also had self-respect and she wasn't going to trade that just to keep a job she hadn't even wanted in the first place.

Valtor laughed at that, making her turn to him to have a better angle to glare at him. "To celebrate the success of the fashion show, Griffin," he softly answered the accusation she'd thrown his way. Yet, the fact that he didn't seem offended was a clear sign that his intentions hadn't been quite as innocent as he was trying to make them out to be. "Some of the other girls are coming," Valtor said, pulling a scoff from her since he obviously wasn't keeping up if he thought that would compel her to go. "I always treat my models to a dinner after a job well done. Those that want to come, of course," he explained, still not affected by her skepticism or her judgment and the gesture did sound genuine, and her arms were dropping at her sides now that she didn't feel the need to keep him away.

"The critiques still haven't come in," Griffin teased.

It was the truth. The models hadn't even gone out on the catwalk yet and she could still see the smirk taking over his lips when she hadn't been blinded by a flashlight sealing her frame in a photograph to have it all over the media. It made her grateful she was all wrapped in his creations as they were the reason why people would look at her in the first place and mostly kept the focus off of her face.

"I don't need people to announce my worth at me," Valtor said as he locked eyes with her as if to tell her the mirror was not the only thing in the room that she could see herself in. "You look beautiful and no one can deny that, Griffin," he said and she felt heat in herself, spreading towards her treacherous skin that was too white and would immediately give her away if she wasn't covered in more makeup than she'd worn during the entirety of her life outside of work. And for once she was grateful to have the her face painted like a canvas because it hid what lay underneath. She didn't need him getting the wrong idea.

"Are you complimenting yourself or trying to get me into bed?" Griffin asked because she couldn't tell him he made the knot in her stomach loosen and the memories of getting bullied in school for how tall she was retreat far beneath the podium she had to walk on with the heels he'd selected for her as if to help her get on the same level with him and celebrate her height. She didn't need to tell him because he knew. His eyes could be a mirror but hers were a window, letting all the light from inside spill out if you knew how to make them open up, and he seemed to know even though she'd never told him. So perhaps he saw himself in her, too, in some way. "I still can't make it to dinner," she said before he'd had the chance to break through the glass and set off the alarm in her heart. She wasn't sure she'd have anything to put out the fire with. "I have plans with a friend." Yes, plans. She needed a plan for how to get away with killing Faragonda for getting the idea of working as a model into her head.

This wasn't the place for her. It was too real and too fake at the same time and the confusion it wrapped her into managed to make her doubt her brain and how well it was working and that she definitely didn't appreciate. She didn't know what to do, and she hated having to rely on directions from others.

"Maybe some other time then," Valtor said, letting her free and she could thank him, but she couldn't because it meant admitting there was a problem. "It's show time," he said, slipping back on the mask she hated and it helped her relax with how easily the feeling came. She wasn't getting dragged into something she couldn't handle. She was getting dragged into something she hated but she'd come out of it with all of her strength at her disposal.

It was the thought that helped her walk out on the podium and it was the same thought that saw her walking into Valtor's office some weeks later, all calm when he'd asked to talk to her.

She had no idea what he wanted but she was more than ready for a fight. She wasn't going to apologize for the scandal she'd made. They had no right to stalk her with cameras when she wasn't at work and she'd let everyone who hadn't gotten the memo know they'd have to respect her personal space.

"I need your opinion, Griffin," Valtor said as he only glanced at her but he still took the time to acknowledge her. And the calm of his tone left her all puzzled when she'd expected a storm. It did leave one in her head and she had to hate him just for that.

"This isn't about the paparazzi problem?" she asked, her face forming a frown and it was more than sad that that was her reaction when she had to be glad. She'd been right to defend her personal space and apparently Valtor agreed which should have made her happy. But it wasn't enough. She couldn't understand the game he was playing. It had to be a game. He had to have an ulterior motive not to be angry at her after the stain on his company's image she'd left. She doubted even the dog paintings on all the walls that he'd made himself as he'd told her were enough to calm him when he was raging no matter how much he claimed to love the animals. She'd seen him angry one time when he'd destroyed a person on the phone. She'd been sure there'd been just a heap of ash left on the other end of the line. So there had to be something else there.

"Is there a problem there?" Valtor looked at her, still so relaxed that she was sure he was mocking her. "You had an opinion and you voiced it. You were rather polite about it, too, considering the situation." He smiled at her, and everything was upside down, she was sure. The floor was probably no longer under her feet but she didn't dare look. She was afraid she'd fall. And she was even more afraid that he'd catch her. She couldn't be just another poor soul caught in his net. Not that she'd meant to have any knowledge on him as an individual but it was hard to miss his personal life when it was practically everywhere. She couldn't understand how people didn't tire of it, especially considering how wild it seemed. And she couldn't understand how he didn't tire of the constant invasion of his privacy.

"You're not angry?" she asked, probing carefully when she knew better than that. He could still bite her head off no matter how cautious she was. But she had to make things right, had to bring the ground back under her and not in the place of the sky. It would get in the way of her plans to observe it. "About the damage to your company?" she clarified when he gave her an expectant look as if he needed her to help him figure out what she was talking about when he knew damn well. He was just playing her to get her to admit her own guilt.

"Griffin, you clearly don't read tabloids." He had her there, just like she'd known he would. He was dangerous. "My company doesn't get off the front pages. Saves a lot of money from advertising," he joked before flashing her that pearly smile, the one that was like poison and had her heart beating frantically to get it out of her system but instead, it only spread further in her veins. "I do love a woman with opinions," he said as he got up from his chair, a predator ready to strike. "It's a thing that inspires and something I pick my models for."

Well, that she wouldn't know. She hadn't bothered to spend time with them, though maybe she should. If she could take his word for it and, despite how much she hated to admit it, so far he hadn't given her a reason not to.

"Men usually only like their women strong-willed when they agree with them," Griffin tilted her head, the interest in what his answer would be not at all faked when he kept surprising her every time he opened his mouth provided it was just the two of them. It was the pretense that fell over him like a cage for his free spirit that pushed her away but what did she know about the fight he had to lead? Perhaps it wasn't a cage but a shield. A shield he laid down when she was around.

"I'm not like other men," Valtor said, his gaze boring into hers for a moment before he looked back to his desk as if it he didn't need to convince her in the truth of his words. "I called you to have you look at this," he picked up a sketch from his desk and strode over to her, his steps confident as if she'd already believed him.

"That's to be determined," Griffin muttered to tame his smugness to a bearable level as she took the sketch from him, her breath stopping as her eyes landed on it.

The dress looked stunning, the light blue–the shade of his eyes–starting at the hem slowly turning orange–golden–before it went into gentle pink, red, purple and finally black. All the colors of the sky before, during and after a sunset gathered in the skirt that was separated from the bodice with a purple ribbon in a very familiar shade. Right above started little gemstones arranged to make constellations. She could clearly spot Leo and Virgo since he'd taken the time to detail them precisely. And the sleeves were black veils, held to the wrists by two bangle bracelets – silver and gold. He'd captured the sky through himself and her and it looked... perfect.

"Do you like it?" Valtor asked, making her head snap up–and perhaps she was a bit angry he'd made her tear her eyes off that masterpiece–her mouth already opening to let a sharp statement of agreement come out of it to make him feel bad for even making her waste the energy to voice something that must have been obvious in her body language but the look in his blue eyes had her freeze, suspended in their ice, in its soft plea for her not to break it and his heart.

She closed her mouth, her lips pressing together as firmly as possible not to let out a sound as she was sure the wave of one would shatter him but also subtly enough not to let him know she was battling the impulse to mock his request for her validation. Even if she'd acted without thinking. She didn't want to hurt him when he'd asked for her opinion, when he'd put himself on display in front of her like she was doing in front of the world to show off his models. She knew how unpleasant it was for her and he'd trusted her not to make him feel like that. She couldn't destroy that no matter what effort it cost her.

"The tenth anniversary from the foundation of my company is coming up," Valtor said, his eyes going over the sketch as if to look it over one more time while she was stuck on the words coming out of his mouth.

She hadn't known how old his fashion house was. She never would have assumed... even when she'd been convinced he was a professional. Somehow fashion wasn't something lasting in her mind, wasn't something important. Until she'd seen the trepidation he'd waited for her approval with. It seemed important now. It seemed like the most important thing to make sure she encouraged him when she could see herself in his eyes once more, waiting for praise and support for her work that she'd never gotten. But she could at least give it to him.

"I'd like you to wear that dress at the celebratory fashion show I'm planning," Valtor said as he looked back at her and now it was hope that was in his eyes and they were the windows this time as he was letting her peek right into his soul.

She could feel her mouth falling open so she took the opportunity to force out the words as she knew they'd both explode if she didn't say them. "I will," she was quick to reach and catch Valtor's hand and the heat of his skin spread through every part of her being, melting everything that had been left frozen by people's dismissal or animosity.

"Thank you," Valtor squeezed her hand and she felt herself returning the gesture, completely consciously as she didn't want to voice her understanding but she wanted to let him know it was there. "This is a very important occasion for me and so is the model," he said as he looked back to the sketch and compelled her to do the same and revel in the beauty he'd created again. "I've forgotten what it feels like..." he trailed off and Griffin let him find his words on his own, keeping still and doing her best to remain present and not get carried away in the depths of the dress he'd bring to life for her to wear, "to draw with passion, pure and unadulterated," the words were quiet as if he didn't want to boast with them and mess with how genuine they sounded.

"What inspired you?" Griffin asked even when she knew the answer, even when she could throw a playful question about the new muse he'd found that he would normally leap at. But there was nothing normal in him at the moment, or at least it wasn't the normal she was used to, though she'd love to change that.

"Looking at the world," Valtor said and she could feel his gaze on her, tugging at her heartstrings just like the smile was pulling at her lips and she wasn't quick to pull her hand out of his.

Which was not to say that she was all that comfortable with his hands all over her a few weeks from then as he was fixing a dress that had never been meant for her to fit like it'd been tailored to her body. He'd kept running things by her, asking for her approval on fabrics and shades and gems, and everything else, things she couldn't even help him with since they were far from her area of expertise. And she did her best to keep his enthusiasm going and not extinguish it with her lack of interest in his profession. She even found herself fascinated by some new things she learned now that she was at least intrigued by his work. But that urgent call for her to come to work had been a bit of a dealbreaker when she knew he knew she needed time to prepare herself mentally before she could go out there and pose like she wasn't terrified of the flashlights and prying eyes.

He'd tried to apologize but it hadn't worked when it had been more of an explanation than an apology and he'd snapped at her to stay still while he was trying to make her presentable and wasn't paying much attention to her emotional state that could have been better if he'd actually taken the time to do more than just throw the words in her face. But of course the fact that they stuck to her spine and kept her from moving was working in his favor so he had no reason to complain.

She'd been the one with the most similar body type to the model that had called in sick in the last possible moment–perhaps even later than that if Valtor's hastiness both when he'd called her to demand her presence and as he was getting her prepared was reaching unprecedented levels–and just the thought they'd looked at her body's proportions in detail made her want to throw up. So Valtor's hands running up and down her frame definitely weren't helping. Especially when he was so agitated despite the fact that he was usually understanding towards his employees.

"Are you done groping every part of me?" Griffin huffed when she felt his hands leaving her only to be back in a few seconds like she knew would happen. It had a dozen times before and he still didn't seem satisfied with the result. She'd thought by now he'd have his ploy fulfilled as he'd touched every part of her, pulling and tugging at the dress to smooth out creases she couldn't see.

"You think I'm having fun with this, Griffin?" he asked and she'd never heard him quite so offended. "That I'm doing this because I want to?" he moved in front of her and the storm in his eyes made her bite her tongue to sever the scathing remark she had coming up right then and there. "I would've much preferred it if you weren't here," he said and she was not a fan of the sting in her heart, "that the dress was on the woman who was supposed to wear it and that this fashion show would go well," he huffed, the exhaustion in the sound hitting her like a train off the rails when she could do nothing to help. She didn't understand the world he lived in but she knew the fear that had taken over him and it was killing her along with her own.

"It will be fine," Griffin said, resisting the impulse to hug herself to protect herself from the negativity he was radiating. It would throw him into a nervous fit if she moved the dress even a bit from how he'd arranged it on her body and she felt so paralyzed. She wasn't even sure how she'd walk out of the dressing room. She couldn't go out there thinking it would all fail. She hated it all so much when it was a success and she didn't want to find out how much worse a failure would kick her in the ribs and push out all of her air.

"No, Griffin, it won't be," Valtor said, pronouncing the words slowly as if that was the only way for her to understand them. But even that didn't help when she couldn't fathom what she was seeing. He wasn't the man she knew with his fear of judgment. "The moment you go out there will be a disaster." And that one was just painful. It really hurt. It hurt to see him as this ball of nerves instead of the collected and arrogant fashion designer she knew. Especially when she was about to put herself out there and get judged along with his work. She needed his confidence but it was nowhere to be found and it made her want to run out of there with the dress and never return. It was the only constant besides the nausea she always got before a show and she couldn't lose that. She couldn't lose his reassurance that she looked like a goddess as she wore his work because it was the only thing helping her face her personal nightmare that lay out there.

"Valtor..." She didn't know what to say, how to ask him for... for whatever it was she couldn't find in herself but had to. She couldn't take from him when he had nothing to give but exasperation and doubts. And he was giving her plenty of that even when she didn't want it. She could feel the insecurities in her mind gathering behind her eyes and pushing to break them apart and spill to the world all of her secrets, all of her ugliness and the parts that had to stay buried but wouldn't when Valtor had just buried his confidence in both of them and she had trouble facing him, not to mention the world. She couldn't go out like that. She'd break down.

"No, Griffin, you don't get to cry," Valtor told her and the words weren't harsh which was why they slapped her so hard. He wasn't trying to be cruel to her. He was preparing her for what was to come. "You can never cry in this world," he whispered as he cupped her cheek and she had to do her damnedest not to lean into the touch because it would be that much harder to pull herself out of it and she needed to go out on the catwalk without him to keep her heart at ease when she knew in his eyes she was beautiful. "Tears are never fashionable and they don't go with makeup," he said, his thumb pressing into her skin to remind her muscles how to smile before he let go, her skin so cold without his hand on top of it to protect her from the ice of the world. "Show time," Valtor said and she nodded.

She pulled away from him and reached deep inside her to pull out her pride to wear along with his creation as she strengthened her back. She never bowed before a challenge and she wouldn't start now that he'd spend so much time arranging the dress to fit just so to her frame that any movement that wasn't accounted for would send it all to hell. And she held her head high even as the sound of her heels penetrated into her brain like the ticking of a countdown to an explosion.

There was one, flashes blinding her and fashion magazines and blogs filling with shots of every place where the dress didn't sit right on her, critique snowing them under for the smallest of issues and not the overall composition, the other models that had all been successful overshadowed by the failure of that one dress and her face was insignificant in the picture but she couldn't help but feel like she'd played a part in that disaster with how stiff and rigid her posture had been and everything inside her had protested. She couldn't hope that all of that had stayed unnoticed when every other part of him and her that had been put on display had been dissected closely. The devil did seem to be in the details.

That was where he'd buried himself ever since then, working without taking a break and for the first time it dawned on her that fashion and science weren't that different when endless hours went into both of them, the people interested in them perfecting every aspect of their project until they were sick from exhaustion. He deserved to be given an award simply for making her find the similarity as it wasn't easy to spot. At least it hadn't been to her but now that she'd seen it, she couldn't look past it.

She found him in his office where she'd expected him to be, hunched over one of the models for the anniversary show. At least no interest in that had been lost after the media created fiasco from the last fashion show. Or at least so she'd been assured by the other girls who all turned out to be very friendly once she decided to come out of her intimidating bubble and join the conversation. She'd even found herself staying when she had no more work to interact with them and it had been a most pleasant surprise. The last thing she'd expected to find in the other models had been friendship but now that she looked closer, they did seem like a big family with the tips they gave each other and the small gestures of support she hadn't noticed when her nose had been buried in her self-imposed superiority. Details indeed.

"Need some coffee?" Griffin asked as he didn't seem to notice her presence even as her heels clicked through his office to take her to his desk. He'd really plunged himself into his work and she wouldn't mind since she knew how important it was for him if she didn't worry that he wasn't doing it for himself, that he was trying to cater to those who'd been quick to shame him instantly, forgetting his accomplishments – and she had to wonder if perhaps that didn't include his parents, too, who, after some digging, she'd learned had been less than supportive about his business and were still hoping he'd go back to the family company that was far more practical. In which case she'd have to remind him of all the success he'd had. With her at least. She was there for him as a friend when she'd been unable to stand him in the beginning. And she wasn't easily swayed as he'd learned, too.

Valtor only glanced at her for a moment but it was long enough for her to see the gratitude in his eyes. "You're saving my life," he said once they were back on his work but she knew the words were genuine. Which was what had her rage boiling over and spilling out of her heart where it had been simmering ever since that night he'd failed to comfort her when he'd had no comfort himself.

"What, no secretary?" Griffin raised a brow at him even though he wasn't looking since she knew he would be in a moment when her words reached through to him. She wasn't being fair to him and she knew it. Just because he was overworking himself didn't mean he'd force his employees to do the same. He respected them for some inexplicable reason considering how big of an asshole he could be and she respected him for that. Which was why it was so frustrating to see him crouching over his desk and going over things that were perfect again and again when all that could lead to was him destroying them. All because everyone refused to show him mercy, including his own parents.

"You seem willing enough to fill her role," Valtor quipped right back at her before he seemed to freeze for a moment. His eyes left the paper in front of him to find her and that in itself was enough to touch her as he'd finally broken out of his mind prison. "I"m sorry," Valtor said as he held her gaze this time. And it seemed to be important to him that she believed him.

She did. She'd seen enough of him now not to need convincing. "I'm sorry, too," she said, using the opportunity that he was still looking at her to tell him what she wouldn't. She couldn't make herself put the dread that had filled her when everyone had picked at the dress that she'd worn instead of at her in words. The world had always been against her and for once it had turned in the other direction and it had been in order to hurt him when the dress simply hadn't been meant for her body. And that wasn't her fault, it was the industry that was flawed and she knew it but... she didn't have the same passion for his work that he did and it made her feel unworthy of wearing it. It made her feel like she'd let him down when she'd been looking for a way to escape while he'd been looking for a way to keep himself whole after the blow not only on his ego, but on his heart, too. He wouldn't be hurting himself now with unhealthy amounts of work if he weren't trying to avoid something worse.

"Don't cross me out just yet, Griffin." There was a bit of a rumble in his voice to let through the anger but behind that there was more. It sounded like a plea, like a sky that wanted worship even when all it could give was lightning and thunder, and not even rain to keep the ground wet and fertile. It sounded like he was giving up on himself and he needed her to lift his spirits. But she'd never known how to do that. For anyone. And the only one who'd stayed with her was Faragonda who managed to pick herself up even without her help and she couldn't tell why she was still there with her when she knew how useless of a friend she was.

"I won't if you promise not to drown your self-pity in coffee," she said, going for a bargain. It was harsh of her and she knew it but it was honest and that was all she could offer. She wasn't good at comfort but she sure as hell knew how to be blunt and Valtor seemed to appreciate that which was good news for their relationship as it was allowed to develop past disdain.

He chuckled, the sound running through her like a vibration she wasn't afraid would shatter her when it was real and full of mirth that hadn't been there before. "You think I can lose it even more if I go overboard with the coffee?" he asked and reached to take the cup staring at it as if it was a secret serum to unlocking magical powers.

"I'm pretty convinced that's not possible but let's not find out," Griffin crossed her arms but still gave an amused smile when he looked at her like he was considering his options. It made her roll her eyes but it was still good to see him get out of his head for a bit. And it was even better when she knew she was the reason why he'd managed. Maybe she wasn't that bad at comforting him and that was information that felt oddly warming, especially in contrast with the chill that still ran through her every time she remembered the last fashion show but for the first time it didn't show up. So maybe he wasn't that bad at comforting her either when he wasn't troubled by what the outside world would think about his inner experiences that he was so brave to put out there on display in his work.

"Fair enough," Valtor shrugged, unbothered by her words when he knew they were a part of their game. And the thought was striking because since when did she allow herself to play in it? "I have something else to keep me going now," he said, his eyes on her again like he could see into her soul.

"What might that be?" Griffin asked as she held his gaze because there was nothing to be afraid of even if that was true. He'd proven he wasn't there to attack her. And if anything, he needed support now, not another battle after the hell he'd been through and the torture he kept subjecting himself to. Though, to be fair, she understood the impulse to blame yourself when you seemed to be the odd one out. But he wasn't alone now. They were together in that. He'd asked her to wear the dress and she would do it even if her mind was trying to make her flee right that moment and never look back over her shoulder. He'd seen something in her that had made him trust her with presenting his work to the world and she wanted to know what that was. She wanted to find the same magic in herself that he'd seen.

Valtor didn't answer but turned around instead, knowing that she'd follow his lead now that she trusted him and would see what he was pointing her to.

Behind him–or rather in front of now–the city was alive with lights that shined in the darkness like the stars adorning the night sky. And it was even closer. It looked like something you could touch and could easily hold into your heart. It did look like something that could inspire you and keep you not only awake, but also alive. It certainly seemed magical to know there were so many other people out there, living like you were, with their problems and their drama, and their perseverance. Because the lights kept coming to life every night when dark threatened to put a stop to all of that. And they seemed to band together to disperse the darkness of the night and not to add more of it. It was a breathtaking sight.

As was the dress that was much more captivating in reality than it was on a sheet of paper. It was so soft to the touch even when the diamonds on the bodice threatened to cut you with the sharp light they were reflecting and it hugged her curves perfectly. It made her never want to take it off when she felt like that was an outfit she could live in. It wasn't suffocating or annoying in any way and it was showing off the most beautiful colors right there on her frame. She felt like a painting – vibrant with energy and untouchable with its value, the only thing you could do with it was admire it. Admire her. In the dress he'd made specifically to celebrate his career in fashion and also unknowingly–though, his gaze on her made her doubt there was a thought in her mind right now that he hadn't heard–to allow her to model without the dread in the pit of her stomach. She was ready to face the world wrapped in his work.

"Well?" she asked to see if he was ready for the same. "Anything off that needs fixing?" She felt her heart protesting against the question and she could agree with that. She didn't want to jump out of her skin at the thought of everyone looking at her in that dress and everything was right. To her at least.

"We need to figure out your hair," Valtor said as he looked her over, sending the first pang of nervousness shooting through her.

"Braid? Please?" Griffin asked and she hated how small her voice sounded but that was exactly why she couldn't have her anxiousness spilling out of her and over the dress. She'd done that to all of his other models that she'd worn but this one was special with how it made her feel and she wanted to keep it that way. She wanted to hold on to that feeling of boldness and the desire to walk out in front of all the people that would be there to judge them and show them the beauty he'd made. He'd trusted her with that and she didn't want to let him down. And she didn't want to let herself down either. It was the first time she felt a spark of enthusiasm about her job and she didn't want to let that go, smothered by the lack of air in her lungs.

Valtor seemed to consider it for a moment before an idea visibly struck as he filled with energy that had her more curious rather than feeling like she needed to hold on to something. Even when he made his way behind her and she could feel him reaching for her.

"May I?" Valtor asked, his hands only burying in her hair when she gave her agreement and she was burning to thank him profoundly but she had to stay focused on keeping her mouth shut at the feeling of his fingers running through her hair that was tugging on her vocal cords every time he tugged on the purple strands on accident.

It was why she hated having her hair done. There was so much tugging and pulling on it and it made it hard to contain her sensitivity to that kind of touch but she had to because she would be mortified if anything slipped past her lips and gave them a glimpse of what was going on inside her. But that didn't seem to hold true with Valtor as she felt him work, weaving her hair in a braid without weaving any panic inside her. Only gratitude, instead, for the gentleness of his hands and of his gaze as she knew he was looking at her very closely and he still found her perfect. Even after working with her and seeing her bitterness at the world. Or maybe because of that.

A gasp fell from her lips when the realization pricked her.

"Did I hurt you?" Valtor asked because of course he'd paid attention to that. And his hand was on her shoulder as if to steady her and make sure she was ready for him to continue before he did so.

"No, I'm fine," Griffin said, having to remind herself that she couldn't shake her head right now no matter how much she wanted to support her words with body language, too, to convince him it was the truth. "It's just... I have a sensitive scalp," she said because that was true, too, even if it wasn't what had caused her reaction this time. Not directly at least. But she couldn't let him know that. Though, maybe it was the knowledge that she could that scared her so much.

Valtor hummed and she could feel his mind spiraling down to the gutter but what surprised her this time was that hers went to join it and she had to pull herself out before she could fall in too deep. "I will be careful not to hurt you then," he said, not at all helping with that when she knew she could trust him because he was sincere. And his hand returning back into her hair made her want to breathe out the relief every part of her was soaking in to the point where it made her afraid she would drown in it and wouldn't even regret it as it was the safest she'd felt in the hands of someone who wasn't family.

He was soon done, his fingers holding the end of her braid to keep it from unraveling and she could feel him looking at it, the cogs in his head turning so loudly that she couldn't hear any insecurities that came crashing down inside her mind while she waited for his assessment.

"Do you know where the braid ends?" Valtor asked, startling her for a moment before she was prompted to join him in thought.

"Let me guess," Griffin felt her lips getting pulled into a smile, "where the purple starts turning into black." It wasn't even a question. She was aware of how long her hair was when braided and she'd remembered how the dress looked on her. It was a sight that she wished to keep in her mind until the end of time to remind her that she herself was breathtaking as became evident in the dress, in the way the colors overflowed into each other the way only nature could make them, existing together in a perfect harmony when it seemed illogical, even impossible.

"Precisely," Valtor confirmed and he sounded amused by it. Whether because he was taking it for a coincidence or because–like her–he was aware it wasn't, she wasn't really sure, but she was willing to bet on the latter. He was more in tune with his soul than she'd thought at first so he probably recognized his own subconscious work now that he had it laid out in front of him. And she didn't feel uncomfortable at the thought that he'd noticed just how long her hair was and his mind had done the rest of the math. "It just needs one last detail," Valtor said and the smugness in his voice had her intrigued this time when she knew his pride most certainly wasn't misplaced.

"And what is that?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't decide to be dramatic right now and keep her in suspense.

Her impatience seemed to come through despite her stillness–or perhaps because of it now that they knew they could be real with each other and they allowed it, leaving no place for fakeness–or he was simply excited himself to share–either of which sounded good to her–since he was quick to respond. "Sparks."

"Sparks?" Griffin echoed, though, if she was being perfectly honest, she allowed herself to taste the word and savor how it sounded even if she wasn't quite certain what he meant with it. It certainly sounded enchanting.

"We have sun and moon, and stars," Valtor said, making it clear what he was talking about now, "so we only need sparks."

"That would be beautiful," Griffin admitted, trying to keep her breathlessness under control just as she was doing with her hands that were itching to touch the gems on the bodice and run over them to get a feel of the idea of more gems tangled in her hair. She could see it in her mind but she had trouble grounding the image in reality when it looked like it had come out of a fairytale. And she really needed it to come true because she'd barely had anything magical in her life.

"You will be beautiful, Griffin," Valtor said as he let go of her hair so that he could look her in the eyes as he offered the compliment and she felt herself unravel like her braid did when he wasn't holding it together under his insistent gaze when he was trying to put the words in her heart and she'd let him if she could just find the certainty they would be safe there. "You always are," he said and she found herself smiling at him when he helped her find what she'd been looking for. She didn't even need him to touch her to believe it when the admiration in his eyes was so tangible, enclosed in their ice as if to be preserved there.

And she was smiling again when she heard his voice calling for her, her fingers finding the hold button for the elevator on her own before he'd even asked her to wait for him.

"Will you have dinner with me now?" he asked and that question proved harder to answer. Especially when he kept adding strings to it and making it a net she didn't want to die in. "I need a plus one. It's for a business meeting in the guise of a party," Valtor was quick to add when he sensed the ease seeping out of the atmosphere to make space for her unwillingness. But that didn't help either when he was asking her to be a decoration to the mask she still hated even if it was what helped him survive in the dangerous waters he swam in.

"Why don't you ask one of the other girls?" she suggested because she didn't want to tell him all of that. She didn't want to tell him that there was a part of him she still found distasteful when he'd opened up to her and let her see into his soul. "I'm sure Ediltrude would love to come with you," she said, doing her best not to push one of her newly found friends into something she'd hate just to save herself. She knew Zarathustra wouldn't be a fan of the idea either but she was certain her sister would love it. Seemed just like her type of event.

"Will you ever go to dinner with me?" Valtor asked and for a moment Griffin was puzzled by what had necessitated that question when they'd already established an answer before she remembered it had been Valtor who'd given her a rein check but she'd never taken it. It made the words sound different to her now, made her notice the risk he was taking when he was asking again and making it more personal than it had been last time. Like he wanted the answer more than he feared it, like he wanted more, more time with her. And somehow that didn't sound selfish to her now. Maybe because she wanted that too.

"Have you considered that it's not you that's the problem with those offers?" she asked, putting herself out there, too, because it was just the two of them in the closed space of the elevator and her soul had nowhere to escape if she let it out, except maybe in his eyes when she looked at him to find them full of disbelief that made her want to give it to him. But to him only. She couldn't let him pull it out in the world too.

Valtor's smile was so small with all the sadness that kept pushing it down and trying to turn it into a frown. "Sounds like wishful thinking," he said and raised his hand as if trying to scare her away when the meaning of his words hit her. And his eyes seemed to widen ever so slightly in wonder when she didn't move and allowed him to cup her cheek. And it made no sense because he'd done it before but she knew he hadn't. Not like that. They'd been distressed back then. And they hadn't known just what that between them could turn out to be. Or at least she hadn't.

"Why do you want me at that event when you know how I feel about publicity?" she asked, her question not an accusation in her mind but the exact opposite. He saw her and understood her and she could find it in herself to trust that. But it left her unable to comprehend why he would ask something like that of her when he'd always read the tension in her when she had to put herself out there, had even helped her with it on numerous occasions.

"Because I'm selfish," Valtor said, pulling his hand away before she could catch it and proving that it wasn't true as he was refusing the reassurance even when he knew she'd give it instead of grasping at it. "I want the strength you give me," he said, awakening an impulse to pull away to process the words in her that she forced herself to suppress. "It makes it that much easier for me to put on a collected facade," he said and the words made her jaw drop and she'd need the space now even if she didn't want it. "I know it's a lot to ask and I understand why you refuse to do it. I appreciate you being honest with me about it," Valtor said, pausing for a moment as if wondering if he should say something else.

She even heard him call her name but the ring of the elevator interfered with the sound, letting the outside world in when the doors opened, and Valtor hopped out without even saying a goodbye before she could do anything. Not that she would have accepted it anyway as the topic still stood open in front of them and maybe it was best that way since she needed time to put her thoughts in order even if she wanted to run after him. It seemed impossible to catch up with him just yet. Especially when she was still stuck on his words.

She felt torn between berating herself for not noticing sooner how much her support meant to him– or rather not connecting the dots when it came to the pretense he was putting up that reminded so much of her own and she should have known–and letting her heart race with joy over what he'd confessed. She couldn't have imagined that he needed her to keep up the facade she hated so much and she couldn't make herself help him with that no matter how much she wanted to, especially when it meant she'd have to put on her own mask, but it still brought them closer and let her underneath even when he couldn't let it crumble. He trusted her to let her behind his last line of defense and it was enough to stop her breath.

As was the necklace Valtor was putting on her for a photo shoot that had been arranged in the last possible moment but for entirely different reasons. At least this time the dress had been informed that it was to fit her body so that was under control. Valtor just wanted to make sure of that and to add the finishing touch. Or rather twelve of them, all twenty-four-carat and ready to be noticed and admired like she only was with him.

"Trying to lock me into place?" Griffin teased, wishing her hair wasn't in an updo so that she could have somewhere to put her hands. She was getting antsy having to sit still. Or maybe it was because she'd have to pose for hours on end as a mannequin for the clothes that were more important than her. Somehow that had never worried her before but now it did. She didn't know if she could be soulless enough and she had to do it for him. For his work. She'd done a lot of posing for her own but now that she understood just how much of himself he put in his designs she felt like she hadn't done enough. She wanted to do more.

"Gotta make sure you won't run away with my heart," Valtor said, making hers leap inside her chest as if it had been jump-started to life after she'd died so many times putting herself out there on display in the name of her dream. "I put so much effort in this dress," he said, instantly prompting her to turn her back on the mirror she was staring at and look at him instead. She knew what the dress looked like just like she could tell when his words were a lie.

"This dress isn't your heart." It was beautiful, yes, but it wasn't special. She'd peel it off after she was done with the photo shoot and she'd be glad to be rid of it and would never think about it again unless it was pushed into her face from a billboard or an internet page. Or perhaps one of those magazines the other girls always had their noses buried into that had almost thrown her off about their intelligence and she'd only gotten past it because he'd nudged her to. "The one you're making for the anniversary celebration is," she said as she put her hand over his chest to feel how right she was as his heart beat in agreement.

"You know me so well?" Valtor asked but it wasn't a mockery. It was more of disbelief, really, and she couldn't have that. Not after how honest he'd been with her. Though, maybe that was the reason for his words now. He hadn't avoided her per se after their talk in the elevator but he hadn't sought her out either and it had really driven home the point of how used she'd become to his attention when she'd found herself missing it on day one. And she knew he must have missed it, too.

"I know you want to kiss me," she said as she moved closer, feeling the deeper breath he took at that and seeing his eyes darken like she'd turned off the light to free them from the burden of being watched. "But you can't because you'll smudge my makeup and there's not enough time to fix it," she left her lips parted, running the risk of being the one to destroy her makeup if she allowed herself to lick them. It would certainly earn her his attention back if it wasn't already on her. And it was.

He seemed just as lost in her train of thought as she was, the direction it was headed into clear but that wasn't helpful when they had to find it in themselves to get off it before they'd reached their dream destination.

"You're wrong," Valtor's eyes captured hers despite how irresistible his lips proved to be as they were moving. "I can kiss you," he said and her heart stopped in her chest so perhaps anticipation was the opposite of adrenaline. "And I will." Valtor's fingers closed around the hand on his chest and she couldn't be mad at him for pulling it away from his heart when he let his lips caress it while his eyes remained locked with hers. "I'm not done," he murmured against her skin before he let go of her hand and grasped at her shoulders turning her around again.

She saw him in the mirror as he leaned down, all of his focus on what he was about to do with her, and his lips tickled her skin around the fastener of the necklace at the nape of her neck with their gentleness and the knowledge she allowed it. It had a shiver running through her and she tried to soak up the feeling of his hands on her to get her through the shoot and it struck once again with how similar they were as she needed his support just as badly as he needed hers.

"Now you're locked into place," Valtor whispered in her ear watching out for the hairdo as he did so but even that couldn't get in the way of the sensuality of the moment.

She'd known he was an artist when it came to flirting, too, but this was something else, something different. It was a romance like she'd never had before and she could only hope she wasn't mistaken because the fall would be brutal. It would rip out not just her wings but her soul, too, and she doubted even the stars would have the power to save her after she'd put all the light of her trust in him.

"Too bad I have to go out there," Griffin drawled and the sound was more playful than regretful as this time it wasn't the reluctance of showing herself to the cameras that had driven the words–though, that was a factor, too–but her willingness to stay with him behind the curtains. It seemed like a good place to be. The best place. Especially with his hands on her frame still, sliding down her sides and to her waist as if to draw her attention to her curves and his appreciation for them. A dangerous move considering how tempted it left her to throw it all away and let him peel the dress off of her, free her from the duty of her job and her insecurities. She knew he could do that, could wrap her in a layer of his caresses that would keep her safe from the hell in her head. She just had to let him.

"The dress needs to be shown off," Valtor said and it was a request like it had always been. From him to her to wear his dress and present his talent to the world. Only, she hadn't appreciated the faith and trust he put into her until now because she'd been blinded by her own distaste for the whole ordeal to the point where she hadn't asked herself why he'd let her have the job in the first place when she'd made it perfectly clear she wasn't interested in fashion. But since then she'd seen his intuition at work and she knew she could trust it, knew she could draw the needed confidence from it. Because he'd chosen her to be the face of his work, of his soul.

"I'm on it," she said and the smile he gifted her with through the mirror stayed in her eyes even as she made it out of his hold and had the cameras flashing in them like they were jealous of their golden shade. And they had to be. Because they'd never see him the way she did, would never get to know the real him with all of the beauty he had within. They'd only get to see what was spilling out because he was so full of it it overflowed. But he'd chosen to show her and for the first time she was glad to be there and proud to be in the spotlight with his art wrapped around her, his soul touching hers.

The feeling seemed to stay with her even after that as everything seemed new. She didn't cringe when Ediltrude shoved the magazine with the photos in her hands and didn't try to brush it off, her gaze sliding over the glossy pages to relive the moment once again and revel in the beautiful image she made in his dress. She went to work with enthusiasm, especially when she could see the preparations for the anniversary celebration unfolding and her heart almost exploded from excitement when Valtor told her her sparks had arrived, doing his best to resist her persuasion to spoil the surprise but he'd finally relented and had shown them to her, smiling at her joy in a way that had made her want to kiss it off his mouth and swallow it to keep it inside her forever for the smile was that precious. She even let Zarathustra drag her on a shopping spree since her personal wardrobe could use something new as well.

Walking through the underground garage was also new as she'd never left the building from there but she'd felt an impulse after they were done with the last preparations for the jubilee. Tomorrow was the big day and she'd wanted to see every part of the building, get to know her work place like she'd allowed herself to get to know her colleagues. Or at least that was how she'd tried to rationalize the inexplicable need to go a route she'd never used before since the main entrance provided the shortest way to her bus stop–Valtor had offered her a firm car and a chauffeur but she'd scoffed at the idea of being treated like she was special just because of the job she couldn't stand–but it became clear what had actually drawn her there when she saw him.

His car was one of the few left–and she knew some of them rarely left the garage anyway so there was a good chance they were the last people in the building save for security as she knew all of the other girls had left and the staff, too–and he seemed to abandon the thought of leaving when he saw her as he opened his door and got out of it again.

"Need a ride?" Valtor asked, his voice echoing through the empty space and his eyes sparkling to let her know there was nothing innocent in that offer which would have bothered her if her own thoughts had been innocent. But the time when she could have pretended she didn't want him had been gone from the moment she'd felt his hands in her hair and his lips on her neck. And sparks didn't even begin to cover the extent of that desire.

"Is it safe to get in a car with you?" she quipped at him with maybe just a hint of genuine worry in there. She knew she'd been more distracted thinking about him than she'd ever admit the last few weeks so as much as she liked having his whole focus on her, that could prove to be a bad idea while he was driving.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take if I get to be with you," Valtor said as he leaned on the car casually and, heavens above, he didn't get to do that. He didn't get to read her thoughts and then respond to them, and he most certainly didn't get to tell her he was willing to die if he could do it with her. But he'd already done it and she'd allowed it, had been ecstatic about it. Because he was risking so much with the dress he'd made for her, for the two of them and the way their souls seemed to tangle, and she'd let him, she'd been right there with him the whole time, by his side where she'd figured out she liked to be. Not on the podium with only his eyes on her to keep her believing she was beautiful–and she could drown in the way he was drinking in the sight of her even now that she wore designer clothes by someone else–but next to him where she could feel his arm wrapping around her and pulling her closer even though he'd never done that since he respected her personal space. She would love that, would love to wear his touch on her skin all the time as it told her things even his dresses couldn't when they had the softness and honesty of his soul but not the fire she'd gladly let consume her.

"Did my clothes change your mind?" she asked when she realized the silence around them would never get heavy no matter how long they spent staring at each other like nothing else existed. Or probably because of that.

"No, not at all," he said and she had no trouble believing the words when it was obvious that he still wanted to rip the clothes off of her. And she wanted to let him, wanted to feel his jealousy and his need but was still scared it wouldn't match hers, was still doubtful when there was distance between them. "Nothing can change my mind about you, Griffin," he said and the way her name filled the space around them made her feel like she was the center of the world, of his world, and that was more than she'd ever been in anyone's eyes, including her own. It only had her wish to run into him and gaze in his when she knew they were her mirror and he had the power to make her see herself like that too. And she could only hope she could do the same for him as well. "Because that's not where you are," Valtor said, making her breath stop and, dammit, he couldn't kill her now before she'd heard how he'd follow that up. "You're in my heart," he said and she felt like he'd reached in her chest and taken hers but she only felt more alive than ever when he was tracing his love for her all over it with his fingertips. "You've been there from the start with your passion and your strength, and your beauty."

A sequence like that would have offended her coming from anyone else's mouth but she knew what he was putting in the words. She knew how he saw the world and that that was the greatest compliment coming from him when she knew he could see all of her and still call her that. And she accepted the title that she hadn't been able to before now that he'd healed all the wounds that had had the compliment bleeding out of her every time she'd received it before. He'd been there by her side and he'd seen everything, he knew what he was talking about and his words weren't just empty like ghosts floating around her to remind her that no one could see inside her.

She crossed the remaining space between them, her legs like jelly but her steps sure with the sound of her heels to accentuate them. She was made of softness when she'd never been more secure in her feelings and it only gave her the strength to reach for what she wanted. And that was him.

Her hands closed in his shirt as she pulled him into her to finally taste his lips after he'd given her every piece of his soul and her mouth opened to let it all flow inside her. She wanted to feel it, feel all of him, everything. She wanted him to make a masterpiece of her skin when he caressed his feelings in it like he'd already done with her heart, wanted to be his art, the canvas on which he could express himself. She'd soak it all up and let the freedom that he gave her join the one he found in her.

She felt his fingers tangling in her hair and let out a moan the moment she felt the slight pull on her tresses. She wanted to give it to him now that she wasn't afraid of showing her neediness and the desire bubbling in her chest, in her lungs when she had his hot breath inside them scorching away every disruption in her breathing so that she could fill them fully. And it wasn't even enough to feel his chest moving against her in the same rhythm as he mirrored her state. She needed to touch him, run her hands over his skin and let them both feel that they were together now, truly entangled in one another and he could hold her freely with no need to do it through the fabric she'd let him wrap around her body reluctantly at first and then more and more eagerly until she'd reached a point where she yearned to have his touch all over her body with no clothes in the way.

She let go of his shirt only to work on undoing the buttons, her mouth still on him, latched on to his now that she'd finally allowed herself to be with him. Her hands slid over the exposed skin the moment she was done with unbuttoning and she had to break the kiss to let out the groan of appreciation she didn't want to confine in their mouths as the warmth of the contact spread through her palms and further inside her being.

Valtor seemed just as gone as she was, lost in the feeling of her hands all over his torso and she felt a shiver running through him. It could have been from the coolness of her palms on his heated skin but she knew it was because of her, because she was touching him the way they both wanted.

She didn't waste time and leaned in to kiss his body. Her first stop was his pulse point and she could feel herself melting at the feeling of his heart pounding inside him like it wanted to get out and into the comfort of her mouth. She'd pull it inside her own chest if she could but she had to settle for leaving her kisses all over his, her lipstick stains staying behind to show for both their feelings and she couldn't help but smile at the color he'd picked for her as he'd said it complemented her skin tone. It certainly stood out on him in a way that screamed she'd been there and she loved it. It was perfect.

Valtor tugged her up by her hair, the action careful despite the roughness–he'd promised not to hurt her, after all, and she knew he kept his word–and looked her in the eyes, the moment stretching when it became clear he had no intention of speaking as words had never been their language anyway but he still took the time to communicate his desire to her before putting it in her system as he crashed his lips on hers once again. His tongue made itself welcome in her mouth and she could only protest when he had to pull away. But he was still there.

His hands were everywhere, touching for the sake of it this time and not because he was arranging a dress on her figure and she could barely breathe, afraid of breaking the spell of the moment. She hadn't quite enjoyed it when he'd been dressing her up but the undressing now she could definitely appreciate when his hands pulled her top up and traced over her abdomen searing the sensation into her brain as something new, as the true start of things between them when he hadn't had access to that before but she'd given it now, like she wanted to give him everything, all of herself for him to create with.

He took the opportunity, drawing patterns on her thighs as his hands sneaked under her skirt inching closer to their goal as they touched more and more of her and there was less of her skin left unexplored and less sounds she hadn't made for him. He seemed eager to get all of those out of her as he pressed his fingers into her underwear and had her gasp, then pant when he rubbed them against her and she could feel him watching her face, his fascination seeping through her eyelids with the quietness that accompanied it. He barely dared breathe, the only part of him moving being his fingers that seemed entranced with pleasuring her the same way he was entranced with the sounds she worshiped his efforts with.

Her head was already spinning just from that when he turned them around and hoisted her up on the hood of his car, the metal touching her skin not cold enough to have her desire sizzle out. If anything, it only made her reach blindly for his belt buckle, not even frustration entering her mind when she couldn't find it immediately as she got to feel the skin she'd found by accident instead, not to mention whatever other thing was trying to push in there uninvited. Even the lack of his heat on top of her when he moved to grab a condom couldn't pull her brain out of the passionate haze it was wrapped into. The only thing she could think about was him inside her and, luckily for her, that was exactly what she got.

She moaned when he entered her, his name almost slipping from her mouth but she wanted to save it for when he made her come–she wanted to give him everything but at the right time and she thought he'd appreciate hearing his name drenched in all the pleasure he'd brought her–so she settled for a loud moan instead. Not that she could keep it to that one only. It was just the start and she found herself desperate enough to whine for more as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, her fingers clutching at his shoulders when she didn't have the presence of mind to bite at him. She could only hold on and let him give her everything he wanted.

He seemed to have it worse, though, his frustration coming through in the way his teeth slid over her skin repeatedly only to pull away when he remembered he couldn't bite at her upper body–and he couldn't reach lower–when they had the celebration the next day. He seemed to drown out the fading memory of reality in the sounds she was spilling keenly when his fingers moved over her, in sync with his thrusts that were pushing her into ecstasy as well as into the hood of the car.

She was sure she must have hurt his hearing with how loudly she moaned out his name right in his ear but he only seemed to sink further into her and her embrace until he reached his release as well, her name a breathless whisper on his lips and she couldn't help the quiver that ran through her at the knowledge he used up the last bit of his oxygen to let her know the depths of the pleasure he'd found himself in all enveloped in her soul. And she fell in love with the way his muscles slackened as he let his body relax on top of her and weigh her down while he panted softly against her throat. As if feeling her draw in air was helping him do the same and it felt so intimate, especially when he pressed his lips there, right above the hollow of her throat, worshiping the very fact that she was alive and breathing. She could almost come again just from that.

Valtor helped her get down from the car and reality started coming back now as her clothes returned in their places and she could keep her eyes open, could hear the way the sound waves moved through the garage and could remember the sensation of the metal under her back. It started sinking in that she'd just had sex–her first time with Valtor–on the hood of his car in his company's garage and if that didn't speak loud and clear of how desperate she'd been for him, then she didn't know what did. Luckily for her, he didn't seem to mind.

"Is it finally time to grab that dinner?" Griffin asked as she made sure she'd fixed her skirt properly. She didn't usually do it backwards. She didn't even do it at all, her feet firmly on the ground and taking her to her goal, no time for meaningless romantic escapades and flings that just weren't her thing. But he'd never taken out of her time. He'd only enriched it instead and had helped her find meaning in something she'd despised when she'd started out as a model. She wanted to give him all the time she had.

"Hungry so soon?" Valtor asked and a grin pulled at his mouth at the double meaning of the words.

"Just a dinner, Valtor," Griffin said but her sentence was disrupted by the chuckle that escaped her.

"Of course," he agreed instantly, "I know I'm starving. My place then?" Looked like she wasn't going home. Good thing she'd denied Faragonda's offer to spend the night with her as she usually did before Griffin had a fashion show the next day. It helped her calm her nerves but she hadn't felt like she needed it this time. Not to mention she'd gotten tired of Faragonda's teases about what was brewing between her and Valtor. Probably because they were wilder than what was happening in reality or because she hadn't wanted to jinx it, even if her own imagination could get quite racy as it turned memory into fantasy and she wasn't superstitious. Though, it'd turned out just fine. Better than that, in fact.

"You cook?" Griffin asked, trying not to jump to conclusions on either side of the range of answers he could give her. He'd been surprise after surprise so it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he could cook. She kind of hoped that he'd say yes, actually. They could have so much fun cooking together.

"God, no," Valtor dashed those fantasies quickly. "I'm an actual disaster in the kitchen," he admitted. "The only way I can be helpful there is to assess how aesthetically pleasing a dish looks." Of course. That did sound like him and she was sure he was great at it. "I assumed you'd prefer the privacy over a restaurant, though. Even if we have to order takeout."

Griffin nodded, preferring to leave the implications behind why he didn't bring up her place alone for now as they could go either way as well. "Okay. And yes, you were right about that. Thank you," she said, her resistance to reaching to touch him a mystery to her after they'd been all over each other. But maybe that was it. She couldn't exactly trust herself to keep her head in the game around him after she'd let herself have sex in a public space. It sounded like her nightmare and yet, there she was, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her top that was now where it was supposed to be which she supposed was the reason for her restlessness that hadn't been present when his hands had been on her skin.

"Okay," Valtor said, a brief pause in him as he debated what to do next, the same frantic energy radiating from him, before his hand was on her neck, cupping it gently and pulling her into a kiss that she'd need him to hold her for as she could feel her knees buckling just at the contact of their lips but it was over soon since he probably feared that they'd fall down the rabbit hole again if they kept it up. "You can get in the car. I'll just go make sure we haven't left a sex tape behind," he said, his voice quiet as he was doing his best not to disturb her peace of mind.

Griffin felt the heat rushing through her to set her whole body on fire before it reached her cheeks where it was blocked from escaping her system and started scorching her instead. Though, she had to admit it wasn't all bad. And while the thought of someone having seen her at a moment like that made her hair stand on end and gave her trouble walking the short distance to the passenger door, she couldn't bring herself to regret the experience.

There was something about the lack of control and restraint they'd both demonstrated that made her blood boil in the most pleasant way. They hadn't been able to stop the passion pouring out from within and the knowledge of how much they'd both wanted it still made her shake on the inside and press her thighs together, the slickness she could still feel making her breath hitch. It was hard to breathe through the thick blanket of tender happiness Valtor had wrapped her into but she wouldn't change it for anything. She'd yearned for that for so long, had burned in her desire for it until it'd been just above painful, and she'd finally gotten a taste of it. All she could do now was hold on to it and try not to let the fear of losing it in her heart but that would prove to be hard when it was so open in her eagerness for new sensations.

Luckily, Valtor caught her short as he came back and reassured her that there'd been no recording made. Apparently his staff was more than loyal and considerate since they'd turned off the cameras the moment it'd become clear in what direction things were going. Though, that meant they'd jeopardized the security of the building with their sex escapade and she had to feel embarrassed but she couldn't find it in herself. Not when he was there with her and she was more comfortable in her skin than she'd ever been before after he'd touched all of her, her body and her soul, and had helped her feel whole.

The car ride had been light, full of joking to compensate for the lack of eye contact and touching. They only seemed to sharpen each other's wit as the comebacks were flying back and forth and she felt alive when he matched her every step and pulled her forward. They only had to stop to order food so that they wouldn't have to wait for it too long once they got to his house. She was quite hungry herself even if they'd sated other urges.

She was stuck in awe when they walked inside his living room and she saw the sketches hanging on the walls instead of the paintings of dogs she'd expected there, too. They were all of dresses she'd worn and Valtor explained that his walls were reserved for his favorite designs. She asked him if he'd put them there before or after he'd had her wear them only to have him help her realize it didn't matter. Either way he associated his best works with her. And her chest didn't feel big enough to contain her heart anymore at the silent confession that she was his muse, his inspiration, and she was barely able to keep inside her all the happiness trying to leak out of her eyes at the thought that she was to someone–to him–what the stars were to her. But she didn't have to because Valtor could see it and share it with her without taking it away from her. He'd only add more to it instead.

She was surprised to find a piano in there, too, though Valtor's artistic inclination wasn't something anyone could dispute but she hadn't pondered the question if it extended to other forms of art as well. She did have the answer now and she was delighted when Valtor offered to play for her.

The soft melody hung in the air during the rest of their evening while they ate on the couch and took the time to share memories. They knew each other on an emotional level but they didn't know much details about their backgrounds. And she had to admit her life didn't seem quite as gloomy when she looked back on it now. Maybe it was because she was bringing up more of the happy moments in favor of keeping the mood light or maybe it was because she'd gotten through all the pain to make her way to the present where she could sit with him and look back on her tears knowing they had been worth it when she got to look into his eyes now and see the light she hoped her own would return.

Next thing she knew was the blinding light of the morning when her eyelids were forced open against her will by the incessant sound of his alarm. They'd drifted off to sleep on the couch and her entire body was stiff but at least there was nothing too sore when she worked out the kinks and it wouldn't get in the way of showing off the dress.

Just the thought had her stomach tightening in anticipation but it wasn't anxiousness. She was actually so excited about it that she couldn't quite keep still while Valtor drove her back to her apartment so that she could take a shower and change. And she would've loved to ride with him to work as well but she didn't want to start rumors today of all days. The twins were already teasing her because of the whole business with the dress and how often she'd been finding her way to Valtor's office the last few weeks. And while they were right to think something was happening there, she didn't want to have that to worry about on a big day like that one.

She was considerably more relaxed than usually during the whole process of makeup and hairstyling and then dressing. Though, it might have been the fact that she had the same lipstick she'd left on him the previous night applied on her lips–and she knew it would give him something to think about the whole time he was looking at her and possibly not only–and she had the orange gems–her sparks–tangled in her braid. It only sparked love towards her process of transformation instead of the hate she usually regarded it with. And then it was finally time for the dress.

Valtor was there to help with the whole process and his hands on her definitely got in the way of concentrating which might have kept her from troubling her mind with worries but she knew she needed to focus. She couldn't blow this for the both of them. She wanted to make him proud of her. Not only as his muse but also as his model and that was a first like so many other things were with him. She couldn't wait to see what else that relationship had to offer.

She felt her heartbeat racing as she waited for him to announce her entrance but the impulse to run was directed towards the stage, towards him, instead of in the opposite direction as she was used to it being. She would gladly take his hand and stay at his side at that important for him moment. She wanted to give him the support she hadn't been able to provide with her own hangups in the way. He'd freed her from them and she wanted to do the same for him, wanted to get out there and show everyone just what beauty he was capable of making when his heart was in it as much as his mind was.

The sound of her name leaving his lips was much louder than it had been when he'd been inside her but it still carried the same affection and his eyes were still full of worship as she stepped on the stage confident like she was a goddess. Because she knew she was one in his eyes and that was all that mattered.

She did her best to contain the smile blooming on her face as she heard the gasps of wonder when the guests' eyes landed on the dress and the echoes coming from behind her when her secure steps took her closer to him and allowed for the sparks to be noticed. She couldn't help but revel in the attention this time like never before when she felt beautiful and recognized for who she was. At least by him. But that was more than enough for her, and she didn't leave his side all night which was exactly what surprised her when he casually commented his parents had left.

They hadn't even walked by to congratulate him and despite their clear stance on his whole business, she'd expected at least as much. Valtor didn't seem surprised or fazed for that matter and told her that they were just there to save face since they wouldn't get away with not showing up to their son's company's anniversary among their friends.

She didn't care about them either way, not after he'd told her about their dismissal of his work and she knew their hearts had to be made of unthawable ice if even the sparks he got in his eyes when he was passionate about a project hadn't melted their disdain of his talent. And since he didn't seem to pay attention to their soulless behavior, she decided not to do it either. She had far more important things to attend to – namely, making sure he was feeling good and having the time of his life. He deserved it after all his hard work and enthusiasm he'd poured in building his company and his reputation. And she was glad to see he'd also made friends along the way since all the other girls and his other employees seemed to share his happiness and all the genuine joy made for an unforgettable atmosphere that even the outside people couldn't tear apart.

The party went on till the early hours of the morning, though it was mostly just company staff that was left at that point which only made it merrier. Especially when the photos taken weren't going to be subjected to meticulous judgment and were just for fun instead. She even indulged all the rest when they begged her to pose with them for a firm album they'd just gotten the idea to make. She couldn't help but give in when they told her she couldn't bail when she was the centerpiece of the whole celebration and of Valtor's career.

It proved much more fun than she'd expected but she was glad when it was over and it was finally just him and her in his office. She wasn't quick to get rid of the hairdo this time as the braid was as cozy as home to her but she was making use of the supplies for removing makeup she'd grabbed from the dressing rooms.

"No dinner with the girls this time?" she teased, trying not to let the sad note in her tone take over it. She'd never managed to go to one of those–or rather hadn't let herself–and since the end of the night also felt like the end of a whole era, she couldn't help the feeling of a missed opportunity and the knowledge it was all on her as she'd been cordially invited by pretty much everyone didn't make it any easier to deal with.

"Well, technically, the celebration ended just now so we proceed with our usual schedule and have the dinner that same evening, so tonight," Valtor said, his voice carrying a hint of a playful note that was most certainly there to cheer her up when he could read her mind. "Will you come?" he asked, and the hope was bountiful both in the words and in his eyes.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Griffin said as she paused her work just for a moment to let him know she really meant it. She wanted to go this time. Truly. If anything, the night had proved that she'd joined a big family–whether she'd liked it or not–and she didn't want to let that feeling of belonging go. It wasn't something she'd had before and while she'd never expected to find it at a fashion house, she was most certainly glad to have been proven wrong.

"There's just a thing we need to discuss before we can appear in public together since I'm sure there will be paparazzi following us everywhere," Valtor said, making her raise her eyebrow at him both in question and to express her distaste with the whole ordeal of being unable to take a step without being chased with a camera. It felt like living in a dystopian novel and those had never been her favorite genre. "The media is already speculating about the nature of our relationship and if it is strictly professional," he said as he showed her his phone for her to see the article that had already been posted on someone's blog about the constellations on the bodice of the dress she was still wearing–she didn't quite want to part with it yet when she didn't know if she'd get to put it on again–and how that was probably a hint at the romance between the two of them since Valtor had chosen to put the symbols of their zodiac signs on it. "What do we tell them?" Valtor asked and he would've managed to sell the collected facade to anyone else but not to her.

"That it is none of their business," Griffin said as she looked him in the eyes to let him know none of her ardency was directed towards him in this situation. She didn't want to hide their relationship but she wasn't ready to deal with the response it would have from the media yet. Plus, she'd love to have him all to herself for a little while at least before they let the world in on their secret.

"True," Valtor said, but his nervousness was still there. "However, it is my business," he said as he put the phone away and rose from his desk that he'd decided to use unconventionally instead of sitting in his chair which she was sure would have been far more comfortable, especially after the long night they'd had, but maybe the desk provided more space for his restlessness to roll off of him. "So will you inform me about the status of our relationship?" he asked as he stepped closer and she couldn't decide if he still hadn't wrapped her in his arms because he wanted to give her her space or because he was afraid she didn't want him close to her. It was unthinkable for her to imagine it was the latter but she needed to rectify it either way.

"Valtor, I had sex with you on the hood of a car in a public space–which I have never done before–followed by us falling asleep on top of each other while talking on your couch," she said, hoping the reminder would help quell his anxious mind. "This definitely screams relationship to me," she said as she left everything she was holding on the chair next to her that she was currently using as a vanity sans a mirror as she did her best not to break eye contact.

Valtor grinned at her at the reassurance–and possibly at the memory of their little adventure and her confession it had been a first for her–and pushed away the rest of the remaining space between them as he made his way to her and wrapped his arms around her waist while she rested hers on his shoulders. "Maybe I should have you screaming it to me to convince me then," he purred, so close to her lips that she couldn't resist the temptation to kiss him and he knew it damn well. Not before a smartass comeback, though.

His lips were on hers before she could think of one and she decided to let it go as she much preferred to go with his suggestion anyway. Though, the way it was going, she'd do well to forget about having sex in a bed for a while. It seemed they'd make their way through any other possible surface before they got to the comfort of a bed. She couldn't mind much, though–or at all–when she had him all pressed against her. That was all the softness she needed to be comfortable so she just left herself to the kiss and was surprised to find she didn't mind him taking off the dress if it was to give him access to her skin. His touch was everything and he was giving her all of it.

She never wanted this to end.