2. The Blue Painting
2
The Blue Painting
H ER heart pounded in her chest. The air felt too thin to breathe. Come on, take a deep breath, Roselin. She leaned against the wall outside her small shared apartment, taking a moment to regain herself. Her hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and her legs shook, but it might have been from all the running.
Somewhere along the way, she dumped her pumps— shit , those were her nice heels, and now they were gone. Although Roselin might be dead by tomorrow, so she had no need for them anymore. But Ryu didn’t know her full name or where she lived… She was safe, and she was okay.
With the back of her hand, Roselin wiped away her tears, took a deep breath to stop her hands from trembling, and opened the door. Two angry faces and one crying snapped towards her. Did Ryu come here already? No, don’t be stupid. He couldn’t be that fast…
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nadia balled her fist, the tears shimmered in her hazel brown eyes.
Oh shit, right. “I’m so sorry.” Roselin hugged herself. “I got caught up and—”
“Seriously. Caught up? You see my boyfriend cheating, and you continue partying?” Nadia said, and Abasi rubbed her back.
“No…” A little. Fuck, she was a terrible friend. “You’re right. Things happened and—” someone died. Roselin saw a person get killed, but she couldn’t tell her friends… Could she?
“This isn’t like you, Rose. What’s going on?” Ah Lam gave Roselin a way to explain herself, almost looking hopeful for some great excuse, but there were none.
Roselin opened her mouth and closed it again. She decided to go home with a stranger to fill her own craving instead of rushing to her best friend. “I’m sorry,” was all Roselin managed to say. She was exhausted, scared, a headache was building up—crap, what had she witnessed? Panic flushed through her body. The memories, both old and new, she tried to suppress with all her might kept creeping back, refusing to be forgotten.
Nadia stood up, stomping her feet, but before she had the opportunity to respond, Roselin rushed into her bedroom.
“Rose,” Ah Lam called after her, but Roselin covered her ears as she slid down the door.
Burying her face into her hands, quiet sobs filled her bedroom until exhaustion took over. Roselin kept tossing and turning in bed until she startled awake from the haunting images of Ryu and the man in the garden. The blankets lay half on the ground, one end still wrapped around her legs. Sleep wouldn’t come again, so she paced through the room. She should’ve been honest with Nadia—she was her best friend and roommate. Nadia should know. She might be in danger, too.
No matter how much Roselin tried to deny it, Ryu had seen her. Wasn’t the code no witnesses kept alive?
Roselin stood still, watching the clock tick the time away. If she told Nadia, she became an accomplice too. Ryu would come after her.
Cursing under her breath, Roselin buried her fingers in her hair. He was a Mageía. They had powers, and he’d find her eventually. It was better not to tell anyone.
A tear rolled down her face. She didn’t want to die. After everything, she survived… No; she didn’t want to think back to those memories either.
The walls of the bedroom closed in on her as her breath quickened. Fuck, she needed to get out of this room—out of her own mind. The scent of paint, the control over the brush in her hand, and the creativity overflowing her brain, were what she needed right now.
After a quick shower, Roselin put on her yoga pants and an oversized jumper. Comfort over looks when it might be her last day.
It was quiet on campus, as most students were still sleeping on the early Saturday morning. Even the sun refused to show itself yet. It was a good thing Mister Smith liked her enough to borrow the keys to the Elysian University’s — or as all the students called it ElyU — atelier.
A sense of home and peace washed over her when she stepped into the bright room. The giant round table filled one side of the space, and easels lined up by the windows. A closet with brushes, paints, pencils, chalk, markers, and whatever else someone desired stood against the wall as canvases lay against another. Plants, sculptures, fruit, and other objects were stored in a corner, and windows brought in enough light to show your brightest dreams.
Roselin opened the window, and the fresh air brushed past her. The cool breeze sent a shiver down her spine, but a good one. The one she loved and woke her up; made her remember she existed, and pulled her into the moment.
She scrambled together everything she needed. The canvas with the background already painted stood on the easel. Roselin mixed the perfect shades of blue, held the brush inches away from her project… and stopped. Her bottom lip quivered. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. She hated the tears, but when she painted there was no need for them. Everything was okay when Roselin had a brush in her hand. Whatever emotion tried to reach her, whatever was happening, it existed, and it was fine. The emotions flew from her chest to her arm into her fingers and the thoughts she didn’t want to think disappeared.
The acrylic paint followed the flow of her movement. A calmness washed over her with every stroke. Time ticked by as she lost herself in her art—cold, distant, alone—the silhouette of a dark blue girl glowed in the middle, watching the various tones of a blue sunset on the blue-coloured beach. One colour, yet the different shades made it look like a thousand. Roselin stared at her work, her feelings glaring back at her in the shape of a painting.
This wasn’t the first time she painted a sunset scene, but the last one was more colourful—happier and warmer. She suppressed the thoughts that tried to surface. Her grip on the brush tightened as she worked her lips between her teeth. If only she could go back…
The door creaked, and she spun around, looking into a pair of dark brown eyes.
Ryu.
Her heart skipped a beat but for a different reason than yesterday. Before Ryu could close the door behind him, she caught a glimpse of two bulky guys standing guard outside the atelier. The blood drained from her face. Oh, God… The brush trembled in her hand, and she struggled to find her composure.
Breathe, Rose, breathe —but how do you breathe? Where did all the air go?
Ryu crossed the room. If it wasn’t for the dizziness or the pressure weighing down on her chest, she might have admired how he looked in his three-piece suit, lean posture, or thick hair, which she had run her fingers through. His gaze burned into hers, and she refused to believe those eyes had seen her naked. As a deer caught in headlights—or the scope of a hunter’s rifle—Roselin was incapable of looking away. She was unable to move. Could hardly breathe. Did she have feelings in her limbs before this moment? When did they go numb?
Ryu stopped before her, towering over her, and she never felt so small. His eyes scanned her body. “Still beautiful,” he said as the corner of his lips tugged up.
Liar. Not in this old sweater, this not-matching-yoga pants, or her hair in this messy bun. It was just some empty last words before she’d die… She should’ve worn something else.
Roselin bit her tongue, trying to push away her tears. She promised her mum she’d live.
His finger brushed her cheek, stopping by her chin. “What happened last night?”
“I went home.” To her surprise, she didn’t stutter. It almost came out confident… Almost.
“Why? I thought you’d wait for me in the room?”
Why was she unable to look away, step away? She should run or fight or— “I needed to see my friend.”
“What did you say to your friend?”
The brush escaped from her fingers, splashing paint on his expensive-looking shoes and her inexpensive trainers. His finger under her chin prevented her from glancing down. Or perhaps it was Ryu’s captivating stare.
“I’m sorry.” Was that meant as an apology to him or an answer to his question? Her stomach knotted.
“What did you say to your friend?” He repeated.
“That I‘m sorry. The boyfriend I talked about last night—the one cheating. I betrayed my friend by not telling her immediately.” Everything could’ve been avoided if she’d been a better person. A better friend.
Ryu took a step back as he stroked her cheek, releasing her from his gripping stare and hold. A deep sigh pushed past his lips. “Roselin,” he said, as if solely to hear her name. He glanced at the blue paint on his brown leather shoes.
“Sorry.” Her voice broke. How does one apologise well enough to not get killed?
When Ryu looked up, the painting caught his attention. The longer he stared at it, the more something changed in his eyes. There was even a small shift in his posture, the muscle in his jaw relaxing ever so slightly.
“I’m sorry.” The blood rushed back into her body, tingling her limbs. The worst possible outcomes bombarded her mind, as she couldn’t shake the image of the man dying, followed by her own inevitable death.
“How much?”
“Nothing. I saw nothing and told no one.” A single tear rolled down her face.
His eyes met hers again, less cold than before. His finger was warm against Roselin’s skin as he brushed her tears away. “How much for the painting?”
She shook her head. What? was what she wanted to ask, but the words didn’t come out, so she stared at him dumbfounded.
“Five thousand?” Ryu asked. She gasped at him, and her eyes widened. “Fine, eight.”
“Okay.” Okay?
A smile of victory adorned his face, and his lips met her in a soft kiss. “I’ll send someone to pick you and the painting up tonight,” Ryu whispered in her ear.
She blinked at his back as he walked away. “You‘re going to kill me.” The words came out as a mere whisper. Ryu was going to kill her. Maybe not now, but later. She felt it in every fibre of her body. Tonight, she’d die, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Ryu stopped, watching her over his shoulder. “Why would I kill you? You have done nothing wrong.” But his words didn’t comfort her.
As soon as the door closed behind Ryu with a thud, the tears streamed over her face. Roselin muffled a sob in her hands. The thin air felt like it smothered her, and her chest tightened.
Her fingers raked through her hair. “Come on, Rose, get a grip. You’re alive and might stay alive?” He wouldn’t kill her, right? He said so himself, but could she trust him? Another sob pushed past her lips. Of course not. Why should she trust him? She saw him murder someone. Her nails dug into her arms as she hugged herself.
Ryu was a murderer.
She was going to him tonight.
Someone died.
Her stomach twisted, and she swallowed the bile coming up. Did she need to call the cops? No, she couldn’t. He’d definitely kill her. Oh crap, she didn’t want to die.
Roselin grabbed her bag and fled out of the art building. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t stop until she was back home.
Nadia looked up at her friend suddenly bursting through the front door.
Roselin's lip quivered at seeing Nadia. Her body started to tremble, and she lost control over herself. Sobs forced their way out of her. “I’m sorry,” Roselin said as her arms flew around Nadia, who held her. “I’m so sorry—I love you, I do. And I’m so sorry.” She stumbled over her words.
Nadia hugged her tight, stroking her hair. “It’s okay. Rose. It will be okay.”
But will it?