CHAPTER 26
The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a lone lamp. Amara sat on the floor, her eyes red and swollen from tears. The scent of the Peonies lingered in the air mixed with Kaelith’ s intoxicating scent that baffled her.
She shut her eyes and let out a deep sigh thinking to herself. Why, Kaelith? Why did you have to come back into my life? She wondered.
Amara clutched her chest, a mix of guilt and conflicting emotions washing over her like a heavy, damp cloak, clinging with invisible fingers, each breath burdened by the weight of unspoken words.
It was a shadow that refused to fade, casting a pallor on the heart's canvas, where every beat echoed a remorseful melody.
Amara sobbed uncontrollably, her hands trembling as she wiped away the tears. She betrayed Rafael... betrayed herself.
She curled into a ball on the floor, the weight of reality pressing down on her. The room felt suffocating, echoing with the silence of her thoughts. The weight of guilt became too much. Amara buried her face in her hands, letting the tears fall silently.
She hated how this affected her. She wanted him, yet she knew she shouldn’t.
She hated how even if he was not there, she could feel him.
Like he was engrossed deep within her soul.
He was the set of memories she lost, and she wished, hoped, begged, that she could be as bold with her feelings as Kaelith was.
Amara leaned her head back on her couch, staring at the ceiling. The room was still, except for the occasional sound of rain tapping against the window. And her thought once again roamed to him.
It was raining outside. Her lids were heavy as she blinked. She wondered if he brought an umbrella with him before she drifted into the eternal torments of her nightmares. Her last thought was of Kaelith, strangely, it was not about the guilt she was feeling, but the way his touch made her feel.
****
The first light of morning peaked through the curtains. Amara stirred awake, her eyes swollen and puffy. Reality crashed over her as she glanced at the around. The living room looked as empty as she remembered. The food was still on the table.
Rafael...
She checked the time and bit her lips hard drawing out blood as the heaviness in her chest grew. The room felt emptier than ever as she pushed herself up and groaned at the soreness in her back and…lips.
She frowned unconsciously touched her lips and winced. Did she buy too hard? She wondered and picked up stale food and dumped it in the dustbin feeling down.
After cleaning up to take her mind off things, she took a shower and changed into a floral print knee-length dress, the length she had never worn before. Usually, she’d wear ankle-length dresses but today weather was somewhat hot. And moreover, this was a slight change.
She was purposely keeping herself busy to not think about what was last night when her eyes landed on the mirror and a frown etched between her brows.
Amara slowly walked to the mirror and her eyes widened when she saw a large noticeable bruise on her lip—purple and blue as if…
she quickly threw the towel away and grabbed the nearest lip stain she could find and applied it on her lips hoping it would cover the whole thing.
How did she even—
Her actions halted. Kaelith. Her cheeks flamed and her heart started beating loudly once again. The man she was trying not to think about once again found a way to her head and heart. She swallowed hard rubbing the coral lip stain all over her lips.
Her lips were swollen and with stains on they looked pouty and plum. Amara hoped Rafael— Rafael.
The butterflies in her stomach died. Amara slowly placed the bottle of lip stain on the table and looked at her reflection. More than anything, she hated herself at that moment. Unable to look at herself, she walked to the window, staring out at the rain-soaked city.
What had she done?
Amara stood by the window, gazing outside, deep in thought.
Her expression reveals a mix of confusion and guilt.
She felt a heavy burden of guilt, like a weight on her chest, and her mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions.
It was as if she was lost in a confusing maze of right and wrong, making her unsure about the choices she had to make.
The air around her seemed filled with uncertainty, leaving her stuck in a swirl of complicated feelings.
Her eyes unconsciously wander around the room until they fixate on a covered canvas tucked away in a corner. It was untouched, collecting dust.
She hadn’t touched that since she moved in.
An inner conflict played on her face. Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to paint took over. She slowly walked toward the canvas, uncovering it with hesitant hands. The colors beneath the sheet seemed to call out to her.
Maybe this was what she needed. Swallowtails hard, she found the box of brushes and paints placed right at the side table.
She grabbed a paintbrush, staring at the blank canvas for a moment before plunging into a flurry of strokes. Each stroke seemed to mirror the turmoil within her. The room filled with the therapeutic sounds of brush against canvas.
As Amara painted, the emotional weight on her shoulders began to lift.
The colors on the canvas reflect her inner struggle, evolving into a beautiful yet chaotic masterpiece.
As if her hands had minds of their own, she breathed heavily she started with a deep grey color and then kept on moving her hand.
With each stroke, Amara found peace and a means to express the complex emotions she grappled with. She kept on painting without realizing what she was painting, but one thing she kept in her mind was that she needed an escape.
******
The soft glow of the setting sun spills through the window, casting a warm hue across Amara's apartment.
Amara stands in front of the canvas, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of emotions.
As she dips her brush into vibrant colors, it's as if her hands have disconnected from her mind, moving with an autonomy driven by an unspoken need for escape.
The strokes of the paintbrush become a rhythm, a cathartic dance on the canvas.
Amara's eyes are distant; her gaze fixed on a place beyond the four walls that confine her.
She paints with a feverish intensity, each stroke an attempt to distance herself from the haunting memories of the night before.
As the day progressed into evening, shadows played on the walls, and Amara's fervor intensified.
The room echoed with the delicate sound of the brush against the canvas, a rhythmic heartbeat that mirrored the tumult within her soul.
Paint splattered on the floor, on furniture, on Amara's clothes, evidence of the emotional storm that engulfed her.
Finally, as the last rays of sunlight faded, Amara stepped back, her breath catching in her throat.
The finished painting loomed before her, an unintended masterpiece born from the depths of her subconscious.
The eyes on the canvas stare back at her, intense and piercing, capturing a familiarity that sends a chill down her spine.
Trembling, Amara recoiled from what she just painted.
The eyes she had painted belonged to the man she should resist — the man whose lips met hers in a forbidden dance only hours ago.
The air in the room thickened with a sense of foreboding as Amara, her clothes now adorned with the colors of her stumbled backward.
She gazed at the painted grey smoldering eyes with specks of blue between them in shock, a silent fury to the desire she sought to bury. The room was silent, save for the uneven breaths escaping Amara's lips, a predicament to the dangerous allure that now stared back at her from the canvas.
The lines between dream and reality blur, leaving Amara standing on the precipice of a truth she could no longer deny.
She swallowed hard and averted her gaze to look at the window. She couldn’t she couldn’t be in love with him?
She yelped in surprised as the doorbell rang. Suddenly she forgot how to breathe and instantly covered the canvas with the cloth before stumbling out the room as she rubbed her dirty colored hands on her dress breathing heavily.
Her hands trembled as without thinking twice she opened the door.
Heart almost in her throat. But as soon as she opened the door, her unfocused gaze met with a bouquet Peonies in a strong veined hand.
Her eyes moved to the owner of the hand as she gasped with wide eyes and almost felt like fainting.
“Kaelith…”
Kaelith stood confidently in front of Amara's door, a bouquet of peonies in his hand. His smile carries a dangerous charm, and Amara tried to conceal her expression of confusion and fear.
Her eyes widened as Kaelith shoved the bouquet into her hand smirking. “I thought I'd bring you something beautiful, just like you.”
Amara took a step back, burning under Kaelith's intense gaze. She glanced at the bouquet, wariness in her eyes as her voice trembled. “Why are you here?”
Kaelith whispered leaning casually against the doorway. “I couldn't resist seeing you again. You left quite an impression last night.” There was playfulness in his voice unlike the rage he left with. She wondered if this was the same person.
Amara's eyes widen in realization, and she swallowed hard as she clutched the peonies to her chest. The baffling scent entrapping her senses. “That was a mistake… It shouldn't have happened.”
Amara expected him to snap, to grit. Instead, he chuckled. “Mistakes can be the most interesting part, don't you think?”
Amara's confusion intensified as she struggles to maintain composure thinking about the painting in her room. She didn’t know what she wanted, so she just let him step forward.
Kaelith took a threatening step towards her and this time, Amara stood her ground. “I'm just here to fan the flames.”
Amara clutched the bouquet, her gaze desperate as she looked into his grey eyes.
Kaelith leaned in, his breath dangerously close to her ear as whispered. “And about what I want with you, why not save the question for another time? But for now, I need you to come with me.” Amara gasped as Kaelith grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her to his strong chest as she shook her head.
Before she could open her mouth to say something, Kaelith clicked his tongue. “And I was not asking.”
She swallowed as her heart pounded as she left the bouquet on the table in haste as Kaelith dragged her out.