Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Roland
Roland loved mornings like this. Sunlight dappling through the big windows of the art studio, the air scented faintly of paint, glue, and the cinnamon rolls someone had snuck in for the Littles to nibble on during class.
It was chaos, of course. Glitter explosions, giggles, and Gavin’s theatrical flair as he tried to organize the color-mad herd of Littles.
But it was joyful chaos. The kind that made Roland feel hopeful to one day have his own Little, yet sad at the knowledge that, for now at least, he and Levi were alone.
He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching it all with quiet appreciation. Gavin caught sight of him immediately and grinned.
“Well, would you look at that, little ones!” Gavin called over the din. “If that isn’t my favorite architect-slash-faux art assistant, Master Roland. Come on, don’t just loiter. Grab a smock!”
The crowd of Littles closest to Gavin and Roland cheered as he chuckled and stepped inside, rolling up the sleeves of his soft denim button-up.
“Was hoping to talk to you and Hunter about dinner later. Levi decided to buy a grill in the middle of winter and is determined to try it out. Figured you could bring over Megan and eat some free steaks, while we tried not to freeze?”
“Oh, that sounds like an offer we can’t turn down,” Gavin said, nodding toward where Megan was hunched over a canvas, her tongue poking out in concentration. “Our girl has been extra good, and we got her a new outfit. She’ll be delighted to have an occasion to wear it to.”
Roland chuckled, while trying not to think of the Little girl he’d like to spoil with a new dress or two.
His friend hadn’t noticed his distraction, continuing with their conversation. “I’ll check with Hunter, and let you know. Regardless, I’m not letting you leave without helping me wrangle these tornadoes for at least twenty minutes. Come do your due diligence, and get in some Daddy time.”
“Deal.”
Roland was halfway to Megan’s table when his eyes landed on someone else.
Sydney.
She was tucked between Megan and a curly-haired Little girl that Roland didn’t know by name yet, her brow furrowed in thought as she dabbed pink paint onto paper with intense focus.
She was laughing, the world around her filled with an almost intense brightness until she spotted him.
The moment she did, her whole body went still and her laughter faded, replaced by stiff shoulders and a guarded gaze.
The poor girl looked like she wanted to melt right into the floor.
Hey, we can’t have that, now can we, little bird?
He couldn’t blame her reaction. He had been a witness to one of her most embarrassing moments. And if Roland was being honest, it was so much more than just embarrassment. It was terrifying. Confusing. And more than a bit heartbreaking.
Rawhide was supposed to be a dream come true for Littles, not a place they hid after being duped and discarded.
And yet... here she was. Trying. Making new friends. Laughing.
That alone deserved a mountain of praise.
So Roland did what any good Daddy would do. He went to her anyway.
“Hey there,” he said warmly, crouching beside the table like he wasn’t a looming man. “Those are very pretty colors you have there.”
Sydney blinked at him, caught between suspicion and politeness. “It’s just a bunch of flowers,” she mumbled.
“They’re really bright and colorful flowers,” he said sincerely, leaning in just enough to let his tone carry weight without overwhelming her. “But if you want them to pop even more, try adding just a teensy bit of shadow on this side here.” He pointed delicately, not touching her, just gesturing.
She frowned thoughtfully, then reached for a darker hue and tested it out.
It did make a difference.
“See?” he said with a soft smile. “Told you.”
A pause.
“Thank you,” she said, still cautious, but less tense now.
He didn’t linger too long. Just stayed close enough to keep offering gentle suggestions and the occasional silly comment that made Megan snort into her paint water. Sydney cracked a smile at that.
Then a giggle.
And before long, she was showing off her lopsided bumblebee and flowers with a proud grin.
By the time Gavin signaled the end of their lesson and the time to start cleaning up, Roland had glitter in his hair and a flower sticker on his shirt that someone had sneak attacked him with.
Sydney’s cheeks were flushed from laughter, and she didn’t flinch when he handed her a paper towel for her paint-smeared fingers.
He’d also most definitely stayed longer than the twenty minutes Gavin had wrangled from him. Something his friend had made a point of teasing him about a few times during the class. He was definitely going to have a few questions to answer later.
But first, there was something he had to do.
“Thanks for letting me crash your class,” he told her softly as she packed up. “You’ve got a real eye for color, you know.”
Sydney looked at him—really looked—and gave a tiny, genuine smile. “Thank you for helping me, Master Roland,” she said, her words barely above a whisper.
Roland smiled at the soft thank you, his heart tugging a little more than he expected. “Anytime, little bird,” he murmured, the nickname slipping out before he could stop it.
Sydney’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she didn’t shy away. Didn’t hide. And that alone felt like a victory.
One by one, the Littles trickled out of the art room, some tugged gently along by their Daddies or Mommies as their Caregivers came to pick up their Littles, others still babbling excitedly about their masterpieces.
Megan was last to go, happily clutching her glitter-soaked paper as Hunter swept in to retrieve her with a warm kiss to Gavin’s cheek and a grateful nod to Roland for helping with the clean-up.
As the door clicked shut behind them, the room seemed to exhale. The quiet settled like dust after a storm. It was almost a shock to the system after so much noise.
Gavin tossed a damp paint rag into a bin and glanced over at Roland, his expression softer than it had been all morning.
“So,” Gavin said, cocking his head with a knowing smirk, “does your boyfriend know you’re crushing on an adorable new Little?”
Roland huffed a laugh and leaned back against the edge of the table, arms crossing loosely. “His crush is arguably bigger than mine. Not that either of us really knows what to do with it. It’s a long story, though.”
“One you can share over some grilled steaks and a beer?” Gavin asked, his teasing tone gentler now. “Also, she seemed pretty taken with you, too, you know.”
“She’s been through hell,” Roland said quietly.
“Ro, I hate to break it to you, but most Littles and submissives who end up on the Ranch? They’ve been through some version of hell. Unfortunately, life has a habit of kicking the most vulnerable of those in the world.”
Roland shrugged at his friend, unable to deny the truth in Gavin’s words.
“I can tell you something else, too,” Gavin continued conversationally. “You gave that precious girl room. You didn’t push, but made yourself available to her. Not to mention you got quite a few laughs from her. That’s not a bad start.”
That made Roland smile, soft and real. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“I’m not saying rush into things headfirst,” Gavin added, stacking some of the Littles’ work to dry. “You need to speak to Levi about it anyway, but don’t count yourself out before you even have stepped up to the plate.”
Roland glanced back at the table where Sydney had been sitting, her discarded paintbrush still tipped with bright yellow. “Yeah,” he said under his breath. “We’ll see.”