Chapter Sixteen
"Hey, whatcha doing?" Axel asks me as he walks into the library. I've been in here since my talk with Renton about an hour ago. I needed to get my mind off the information he divulged, so I threw myself into a book. Now, I look up from said book over to Axel. There's still sleep in his eyes, and his hair is droopy and rumpled.
"I'm laying on a couch in the library with a book in my hands. Most people would think I'm reading, but I guess I could be doing something else," I reply evenly. He smirks and yawns.
"I just woke up. My brain isn't working," he says while walking over to the couch. I scoot into a sitting position and pull my legs up to my chest to give him room. He sits down and throws an arm across the back of the couch lazily. For a moment, I'm amazed by how comfortable he is in his body. He seems so one with himself; it's almost graceful. I'm a little jealous. I've always been awkward and uncomfortable in my skin. I never know what to do with my hands or other extremities. He smirks at me, and I know he's noticed my staring. I snap back to my senses, and bring my book back up to my face.
"Does your brain ever work?" I ask sassily, smirking. His smirk evolves into a smile.
"Nah, not really. I just have to flatter myself sometimes." I let out a little snort of laughter from behind my book. "What're you reading anyway?" he asks.
"It's just a book of assorted poetry. You really don't have anything creative in here. You have so much non-fiction, but not much else. It's a little irritating."
"I guess I'll have to fix that, huh?" he asks. I shrug, feeling a bit out of place.
"Up to you. It's your library," I mumble. I get through a few more pages in silence, but my legs start feeling cramped and achy. I glace up at Axel; he's staring unblinkingly out the window in front of the couch; he seems lost in thought. I stretch my legs back out just slightly, but now they're at an even more awkward angle. I extend them a little farther, and it feels just slightly better, but not good enough. Oh, fuck it. I stretch my legs out so the soles of my feet are propped against Axel's thigh and quickly bury my face back in my book. He doesn't say anything, so I risk a glace. He's still looking out the window, but there's a small smile on his face. I look back to my book with a tiny grin of my own.
I'm working on my snow inspired painting a couple of hours later, but something feels wrong about it. I can't bring myself to continue it, so I set it aside and set up a new canvas. I'm drawn to use bright, vibrant colors. I fall into a trance and follow my instincts. About an hour later, I sit back and examine what I've done so far. I cock my head to the side and frown slightly. It's abstract and very different than what I usually do. It still needs texture, and I'm contemplating what type of medium to use when a thought pops into my head. You're painting this as a Christmas present for Axel, aren't you? My frown deepens. Am I? It certainly copies his style and seems like something he'd like…
Before I can focus any more time on this thought, Axel walks in.
"Renton just finished dinner up. We're having-"
"-Chili, yeah I know. I asked him earlier while you were napping," I say, getting up from my stool. I wipe my hands on my already paint splattered jeans and go to rinse off my palette. Axel starts walking towards my easel.
"What're you working on?" he asks, and I throw the palette down in the sink and scamper around the easel.
"No, no, no, you can't see it," I say quickly. I turn him around forcefully and put my hands on his back to push him towards the door. I know I'm probably getting paint on his shirt, but I don't care at this point. If I'm going to give him this painting for Christmas, I can't have him ruining the surprise.
"Woah, what's the big secret, kid?" he asks while laughing. He's letting me push him to the door, and I'm incredibly glad he's not fighting me.
"You just can't see it yet! Renton worked hard on dinner. No need to keep him waiting. You go ahead, and I'm just going to clean up in here a little. Go," I order, shutting the door rather hard behind him. I hear his laughter ring in the hallway as he walks away. I lean against the door to release the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Phew. That was close. I rinse out my palette and cover my canvas up. Finally, I wash my hands as best I can before heading out of the room. I run upstairs quickly and change into a pair of blue flannel pajama pants and a black tee-shirt. Most of the bruises on my arms have faded by now, so I feel a little more comfortable wearing short sleeves. Besides, Axel already knows about the marks, so there's no point in hiding them anymore. I scurry back downstairs.
Axel's waiting for me in the dining room, still smiling.
"So when do I get to see this secret painting you're working on?" he asks.
"When it's done, I guess," I answer, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Renton bustles in with two steaming bowls of chili, and it smells amazing.
"Evening, sir. Iris," he says with a nod and smile at each of us.
"Hi, Renton. That chili smells incredible," I say, so thankful for his timing.
"It's all in the slow-cooking," he says with a small wink. He sets the bowls in front of us with two packs of oyster crackers each before bowing out. I take a bite and roll my eyes upward.
"Yum! This is so good. This is the type of chili you curl up to enjoy a good movie with on a cold day," I rant, hoping to get Axel's mind off the painting. His eyebrows rise.
"Do you want to? I have plenty of movies; I'm sure there's at least one in there you'd consider good," he says with a smile.
"Well, I don't know. I have a pretty picky taste in movies," I joke.
"Oh, yeah? What's your favorite?" I think for a second before answering.
"Phantom of the Opera, probably."
"I have that," he announces happily. I quirk one eyebrow.
"No, you don't," I say, not believing him. His smile widens.
"No, really, I do. Grab your food and come on." He gets up with his bowl and walks out of the room. I stare after him before deciding to follow.
He's in the living room, the movie already on its main menu. Axel's sitting on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table, his bowl of chili on the arm rest. He grins at me as I sit down.
"Told you I have it," he says triumphantly.
"So you did," I respond. I stretch my legs out, my toes just a few inches from his leg. "Alright, play," I say, pointing to the television. He smiles, hits play, and we settle into silence with our chili.
About halfway through the movie, our empty bowls are on the coffee table, my feet are fully across Axel's lap with his hands on my shins, and I'm singing along obnoxiously loud. I'm self-admittedly pitchy and terrible, and I know this is why Axel is chuckling. He doesn't interrupt until the song is over.
"You're an awful singer," Axel says, though not unkindly. I laugh.
"Yeah, I know. I just love this movie too much not to sing along with it."
A little bit later, another song is about to come on and I get my lungs ready. Axel beats me to it, though by belting out the opening lyrics. I laugh before joining in. It's hard to tell which of us is the worse singer, and I feel slightly bad for Renton seeing as how there is no way he can't hear us. We don't manage to make it through the song before we're both laughing. My stomach aches from laughing so hard, so I sit up in hopes to alleviate it. It doesn't work, and this makes me laugh harder for some reason. I double over and touch my forehead to my knees, still laughing. I feel Axel mimic my movements as his body folds over my lower shins and ankles.
We finally manage to calm down and I feel Axel prop himself back up. After a few deep breaths, I lean up a bit and lift my head to look at Axel. Surprise floods through me when I find his face so close to mine, his eyes burning into mine. I suck in a breath and feel my heart rate pick up. My stomach flutters a little bit as I stare back into his eyes. Two weeks ago, these would be signs of panic and fear, but now they can only be described as curiosity and slight exhilaration.
I'm forced back to my senses when I see his eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips. In one fluid movement, I'm sitting up all the way and pulling my legs away from him. Quickly, I stand up.
"Well! I think I'm going to head up to bed. I did get up pretty early this morning, so…" I trail off. Axel has a slightly shocked expression on his face, but nods.
"Yeah, right. Well…uh…good night then," he says.
"Night," I reply as I hasten out of the room, up the stairs, and into my room. I shut the door behind me and slide down it until I'm sitting on the floor. I put my head in my hands.
"What the hell was that?" I whisper to myself.
I've been acting strange all day. I've spoken to Axel candidly and uncensored, and I didn't feel worried or scared while doing so. I let my sarcasm throw up all over the place throughout the day. I've laughed today more than I have in a long, long time. Then I considered letting him actually kiss me. The most upsetting part of all of this, though, is that I've thoroughly enjoyed every bit of today. I've felt comfortable around Axel all day, and that's not what I'm supposed to be feeling. I can't let myself get close to him. He's not some nice guy who took me in. He bought me from a slave market. He owns me.
But he also cares about you, doesn't he? I frown at the little voice in my head. He does seem to care about me. He doesn't hit me or starve me. I have an actual bed and clean clothes and all the food I want. When you think about it, he just kind of seems like a lonely guy who wanted a companion more than an actual slave. Why didn't he just go out and meet someone if that's the case, though? Because just buying someone is probably easier… I frown even deeper. Why does this have to be so damn confusing?
Renton's voice echoes in my head: If you give him an honest chance, I think you'll find that you actually like him.
Can I actually bring myself to give him that chance, though?