If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse: A Dark Grumpy Sunshine Romance

Chapter 3

Rurik

Thud.

A brush stroke there.

Thud. Thud.

Another brush stroke here.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

I toss my paintbrush with a sigh, not caring that the red paint accidentally splatters on the canvas. I stare at the mess I made before my gaze shifts ahead of me, a bridge I was trying to paint.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

I groan and close my eyes. I inhale deeply and rub my chest, feeling like I”m running out of time and have nothing meaningful to showcase to the world. My first art showcase in Oscar’s museum was a huge hit—so much so that people keep asking him about my next show.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m really proud of myself. I”ve worked for this since I was a tiny lad back home.

However, I”m beginning to realize that with success comes an increase in stress.

I couldn’t even enjoy that day because of some psycho woman who left me unconscious, sitting on a toilet with my head leaning against the filthy sides.

I don’t know how I woke up safely in bed the following day. Apparently, Oscar found me and blamed it on all the wine I consumed, even though I didn’t drink anything except for a few sips of champagne here and there.

I huff, giving the canvas my attention again.

Do I really want my second showcase to be about landscapes again? I need something different. Landscapes don’t do it for me anymore. I just need some inspiration to give me that spark of imagination to transfer it onto a canvas. Or maybe I should add some sculptures? I haven’t done those in a while… I haven’t felt any spark in the past month.

The last time I felt anything was a few weeks ago during my first showcase when I felt annoyance, disgust, confusion, anger, and something else I didn’t even want to consider.

Shit. I’m stuck.

I can’t base my art on those negative feelings unless I want to go the dark route. But that’s not me. People love my art because it makes them nostalgic, peaceful, and happy. If I start changing my style because a particular annoying psycho made me feel some sort of—

Focus, Rurik.

Get your head in the game.

I clear my throat and shake my head to clear unwanted thoughts. I pick up my brush and coat it with blue paint. After dipping it again into the color, I carefully tap it on the side of the container to remove excess paint. With a steady hand, I lift my arm and lightly dab the brush onto the canvas.

“Hello, you.”

My hand stops. My neck suddenly feels prickly at the sound of her voice.

“What are you painting?”

No. I’m just going to ignore her.

“Are you ignoring me, angel?”

I’m going to ignore the hell out of her. She left me to die in that nasty bathroom stall!

“Is this because I left you the last time we saw each other?”

I curse under my breath. Great, not only is this woman crazy, but she can read minds now.

“You hurt my feelings by calling me the M-word,” I swear I could hear the pout in her words.

“Don’t touch me again; I won’t call you anything anymore.”

“But why?”

I refuse to answer her.

“Does my touch make your dick twitch?”

Jesus.

She continues, “To be fair, I didn’t leave you. I called Oscar and told him you passed out drunk.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” I don’t know why I felt the need to defend myself. I just did.

“I know.”

I don’t say anything else.

“Aren’t you going to look at me while I’m talking to you, angel?”

A brush stroke here.

“I love talking to the back of your beautiful head.”

A brush stroke there.

“Gripping conversation we’re having, the Back of Rurik’s Head. Fucking electrifying.”

I inhale deeply, rolling my shoulders to shift the tension off me as I exhale slowly.

The silence between us is deafening as I focus on my painting. I tear my gaze away from the canvas to switch brushes. I dip the new one in green and remove excess paint before bringing it to the canvas.

Suddenly, a splash of yellow paint decorates all over the canvas.

I stop and blink, staring at the random yellow splatter that appears out of nowhere. For a second, I think I am the one going crazy. I have to look at the paintbrush in my hand to ensure the color is green and not yellow.

Another sprinkle of yellow appears across the painting, covering a bit of the bridge.

What the fuck?

I whirl around to see Briar looking at the painting sheepishly. She holds a paintbrush in her hand, clearly dipped in yellow paint.

“What. The. Fuck.” I growl so low. I drop my paintbrush and turn my whole body to face her.

She blinks once and flashes me a grin. She cocks her head again in that way of hers that makes her look so damn innocent, and it’s just messing with me on the inside.

“What the fuck?” I say louder, standing up and taking a threatening step to her.

Her eyes flash, but she remains standing in her spot. With a snarl, I grab the brush from her grip and throw myself back into the chair.

“Get lost.” I bark, staring at the canvas and trying to see how I can fix the shit Briar ruined.

If I mix the yellow in, it might work. It has to work. I release an angry huff and use a clean brush to start brushing the yellow back and forth to blend in with the colors.

The paintbrush is plucked from my fingers.

“Seriously, what the hell?” I turn to her and bare my teeth, “Leave, damn it!”

“But I just got here.” Briar’s face drops. “I’ve been looking all over for you, angel.”

“Stop calling me that, and quit looking for me,” I snarl. This woman is crazy. I don’t know her problem with me, but I need to get rid of her. She’s ruining my flow. “You can’t just come up and distract me out of nowhere.”

“Wait,” She blinks. “I’m distracting you? Is it because I’m so beautiful, and you can’t stop thinking about me?”

This little shit.

“Get over yourself.”

“Because ever since I sat on your lap, my mind won’t stop playing images of you beneath me. Question. Do you often get hard fast like that whenever a woman is on top of you, or is it just me?”

God. Fucking. Damn it.

I exhale heavily and shake my head. “You can’t say stuff like that and expect people to think you’re a level-headed, contributing member of society, Briar.”

She barked an incredulous laugh, “I don’t give a shit what society thinks, Rurik. I’m surprised you do.”

Crazy, psychotic woman.

“Can you just leave me alone, please? I’m not comfortable with people watching me work over my shoulder.”

Briar nods. “Oh! Of course, I”m so sorry.”

For a second, I think she will finally leave me the hell alone. Instead of doing what I wish, she steps closer until she”s right beside me and grins.

“There, now I”m standing next to you. Not behind you.”

“Is something wrong with you?”

“Yes.”

I pause. “Yes?”

She shrugs. “Yes. It”s wrong that I tasted heaven after meeting you, but you refuse to let me fully into your paradise. Why are you so afraid to spread your wings for me, angel?”

I stare at her, unable to come up with a reply that would make her turn around and leave for good.

So, instead of coming up with a civil response like a grown-ass adult, I scoff loudly and roll my eyes. “Seriously. Read the room and leave me alone.”

“The more you keep pushing me away, the more I’ll come right back.”

A growl rumbles in my throat. “Enough already, get out of my face! If you don’t back off, you’ll see what happens.”

She twirls the paintbrush between her fingers, her eyes sparkling with unstable glee. “Why? What will happen?”

I falter, “What?”

“I wanna know what will happen if I don’t back off.”

I just stare at the crazy ass woman in front of me. She’s going to kill me. I just know it. I can already feel my blood pressure increasing and my heart about to give out.

“Don’t leave me hanging,” She continues, “What will happen?”

“You’re fucking mental,” I whisper, not able to keep my eyes off of her because I refuse to believe such a person exists.

Briar flashes me that grin again, the kind that promises mischief and danger, sending a shiver down my spine.

What the fuck?

She bites her bottom lip. “You”re so cute even when you hiss and snarl at me, kitty cat.”

My brain short-circuits.

Once I can form my thoughts into words, I snap. “Cats have claws that can fuck you up.”

Briar shrugs and extends her hand to offer the paintbrush back. I stare at it as if it’s about to spring a couple of arms and sink its claws in my skin.

She chuckles, snapping my attention back to her. She shoves the brush in my hand and pats my head before stroking it.

“As long as it’s you that does the fucking.” She chirps with a wink.

I feel my cheeks puff up, wanting to hiss some more. But then she’ll call me a fucking cat again, and I’m not in the mood to entertain this psycho.

So, I’m going to ignore the hell out of her again. I bat her hand away and turn around to face my canvas.

Focus, Rurik. Focus.

“You’re a great artist, Rurik.”

I should say thanks like a good guy, but no. Instead, I make this grumbling sound like a fucking child and don’t say anything.

“Down, kitty cat.”

This fucking — I stop. My chest is doing that thing again where it aches, and it’s distracting the hell out of me.

I close my eyes and inhale slowly.

One. Two. Three.

Exhale.

One. Two. Three.

I open my eyes again and return to work, blending in the yellow until it looks good. I sigh as the silence between us stretches, but for once, I’m not feeling out of sorts. Seconds turn to minutes, and I am back in the flow. The painting is turning into something different than I originally envisioned, but… I don’t hate it.

I’ll never tell her that, though.

I move on to work on a second layer of paint for the sky but feel my heart lurch the moment a second brush that is not coming from me enters my line of sight. I whirl my head to see Briar standing right beside me. Her face scrunches up in concentration as she uses another brush and starts painting my canvas.

My canvas.

My painting.

“What in the blazing hell are you doing?” I snap, wanting to grab the brush from her hand.

“What does it look like I’m doing, angel?” She asks, throwing me her signature grin.

I glare at her. My hands are itching to slap her hand away and shove her away from my vicinity.

Fuck, what the hell is this woman doing to me?

I don’t know her, and I want to punch things. I”m never violent, nor do I ever think of snapping at anyone. Usually, I would be thrilled if someone showed any interest in joining me to paint.

But only when they work on their own shit.

Not mine.

“You’re ruining everything!” I can’t help but yell.

“How? I’m trying to help you.”

“Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone?” I growl exasperatedly. “I come here to paint in peace; I don’t want an annoying psycho like yourself to bug me!”

“You know how much I love how you talk dirty to me, angel.”

“If you don’t get out of my sight, I will scream.”

“I bet I can make you scream in a more intimate environment.”

For fucks sake.

“I’m going to ask you politely,” I growl, earning another grin of hers. “Leave. Now.”

“But why?” She raises a brow at me before looking at the canvas. “I was trying to figure out what was missing while you were painting.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, curiosity gets the best of me. “And?”

“You’re a glowing ray of sunshine,” She nods at the view. “I’m surprised you”re missing some in the painting.”

She winks at me. Fucking winks at me. Again.

This migraine of a woman —

“What the hell are you talking about now?” I snap, my eyes flickering between the canvas and the view.

Briar makes a sound and points at the painting. “You got the view perfectly, but see how the clouds frame the sun? There’s light from the sun shining through the gaps, giving the view that hazy, dusty look.”

She takes the paintbrush dipped in white and looks at me.

I scoff when she doesn’t do anything. “What? Now you’re waiting for permission?”

She shrugs and starts painting.

Minutes later, I can”t help but gawk at it.

The hairs on my arms stand up as the vision comes alive before me. The feeling of wonder consumes me as I watch her fully concentrate. The way she blends the older colors I used earlier with the new ones she added is fantastic.

When Oscar told me Briar loved all things art, I thought he was bullshitting me. He has to know who Briar is and what a murderous psycho she is. But with the way he spoke about her, I can tell he doesn’t.

Fuck, the painting looks impressive as minutes pass by.

“What do you think?”

I blink, realizing Briar has finished quickly and is now staring at me.

I don’t like the way she’s looking at me. It makes me uneasy, and I can’t grasp its meaning.

My stepdad never really told me much about her, only that he always described her as this monster. For whatever reason, she has her sights set on me.

I need to get rid of her.

Now.

“It’s fine. Now, kindly fuck off, please.”

A flicker of expression passes across her features, but it vanishes before I can decipher it. Instead, she grins that stupid grin. “It’s okay to admit you like it.”

I roll my eyes and scoff. “Fuck you.”

“When?”

I feel my face heat up, and my heart accelerates faster than I need. I turn back to my painting—yes, my painting. She may have helped tie everything together, but this is my work.

“You said you would give me hell once we were out of the restrooms.”

“I said I would make your life a living hell.”

She takes a step closer to me, causing me to stiffen. If I lean back, I will either fall off my chair or press my back against the wet paint. She is so close that I can count the lashes framing her eyes and how they brush against her skin whenever she blinks.

She”s too close. I can’t stand it.

“I guess Earth is my hell, and you’re my fallen angel,” she murmurs.

I suck in a breath. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She stares blankly at me for a few seconds, making me uneasy. Before I can tell her to go away again, she blinks and grins again. Her gaze drifts behind me, and her eyes widen.

She steps away and around me until she walks to a nearby bush with white flowers. I frown as I watch her brush her fingers gently against one of the flowers until she plucks a random one.

She stares at it for a few seconds before returning to me.

How she looks at me makes my hackles rise, and I wait to spit more insults at her so she can leave me alone.

Before I can do that, she walks back with her arm extended toward me, the flower in her hand.

What the fuck?

“A gift for you,” She says softly.

Her eyes carry a glazed look, and I bite back my words. Swallowing hard, I accept the flower from her with a stiff nod.

She grins once more, her face radiant with excitement.

Then she turns and walks away, finally leaving me in peace.

Crazy woman.