canvas
noun ~ a blank piece of cloth used to make items, or for creating artwork
I was back in Phoenix's suite, sat on the floor as I used the coffee table as my art space. His suite consisted of his bedroom, en-suite bathroom and living area with huge cinematic television. It was basic, all a bachelor really needed considering he spent most of his time in his office.
My muddled mind began to dissipate as my hand flowed through the mess. My eyes were unfocused, my body completely unrelaxing as I allowed my creativity to flow. My mind fell blank, an unemotional haze coming over me. I don't know how long I painted for, but I became aware of Phoenix pressing into my mind every so often before dipping out when he found me still the same. Other than that, I merely got lost in the art.
The sudden click of light had me blinking back into my surroundings. Looking around I saw Phoenix stood at the front door, his hand still on the light switch. I frowned, glancing out the huge window to see the sun had started to go down, a grey shadow casting over the room.
"What time is it?" I wondered, clearing my throat.
He chuckled and kicked off his shoes. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned. He looked delectable, even though his eyes were foggy and tired.
"It's about seven o'clock." He murmured, coming to fall into the sofa beside me.
His head falls onto the back of the sofa, his eyes closing for a moment. His right arm stayed on the arm of the sofa, his left along the back of it. His knees were bent and parallel to the sofa. I was still sat cross-legged on the floor, paintbrush in hand, but looking at him, hand me picking up my paper folder and a pencil.
With his eyes still closed, I began to draw. His whole body had sagged into the sofa, moulding to its contours. My pencils ran across the page, shading and curving to his sculpture. His breathing had evened out not long ago as he fell asleep. I hummed to myself as I drew, finding pleasure in capturing his essence as he was right now. Peaceful yet exhausted, the jagged lines of his jaw to the softness of his silken shirt.
By the time I had finished, it was nearing eight-thirty and I set down my pencils to look at what I had created. This drawing was different from the paintings I had spent all afternoon on. I remembered and calculated every stroke as I observed Phoenix. It had come out perfectly, the dark contrasts of his shadows against the peacefulness of his form on the sofa. Dark and light, soft and sharp met each other in perfect harmony; much like Phoenix himself.
I smiled and set it aside before grabbing the first canvas I had painted. My breath hitched in my throat as I studied it, feeling so familiar for a moment, and then it clicked. The trees were cast in moonlight, the sky clear and bright against the full moon. There were shadows of wolves, lurking beyond the treeline once again, angered instead of feared. Wolves stood in a circle, as a shadowy figure stood proud and tall in the middle.
It was the night we overtook the enemy, the shadow in the middle was the leader, so I assumed Phoenix. Wolves have crowded around, some crouched in attack, others raised on their back legs, mouths curved in a snarl. I shivered, setting it aside. I had no idea why my subconscious had drawn that; it isn't something I wanted to remember.
I grabbed the next canvas, my hands shake as I caught sight of its darkness. A girl sat hunched against a wall, her knees to her chest, her head in her hands. Her hair was long, cascading down to her elbows and covering her face. I didn't know who it was, she was painting in a blend of red and black. It made me feel...sad. Weeping lines, jagged paint with texture... She was so sad, so in pain as she leaned against that floor with all she had. The room was small and white, only two walls come to view and they were completely bare.
The ceiling disappeared into a dark cloud, hovering over her waiting to erupt, dampening her mood. I frowned, squinting as lighter shadows stood in the dark cloud. They were floating, weightless against the heaviness of the cloud. It looked like more wolves, yet they were blurry like smoke and hard to make out. There were no colours, just red, white and shades of black and grey.
The last painting I couldn't even make out. It was a smoky cream background with blurs of colour in the centre. A mix of black, red, grey, brown and orange all seemed to blur together, blending in areas and standing out in others. They tangled with each other before slicing out into the cream fog. I saw nothing from this picture but felt it, felt the dread, the danger.
Something was definitely coming.
Every time I drew, I felt the message.
I hummed to myself and stood to my feet. I wandered my way to the bedroom and sought out my art folder from under the bed. I threw it onto the bed before opening it, seeking out the drawings that stuck in my mind.
The one I painted before I met Phoenix. It was of a vibrant green and orange forest, a large black wolf between the trees. I remember not knowing who this wolf was, but the more I stared into those black eyes, the more I saw Ares. I passed the one I drew before then, of a forest with a lake and waterfall and smiled at its beauty. I really did love nature.
I licked my lips and sought out the two I had made when Phoenix had gone to visit Lyra's pack for a few weeks. The first was a yellowed sunrise, a group of wolves basking in the joy of a sunrise. That one did not make any memory trigger but created a warmth in my chest of when the sun rose after the battle. The joy in the past is behind us, and the enemy is defeated.
The other was the darker image. It was vibrant still, full of all shades of reds and pinks. Except instead of warm, huddled wolves, the sunset had instilled fear. Fear of the forest, as they defended their pack; one small black wolf, in particular, stood to the rear, convulsed in pain or fear. A struck to my heart made me wonder if that small wolf was me.
I winced when the next ones in the pile were from when I hit my low point when the distance of the bond and change of atmosphere was crushing me. Ones of me were drawn darkly, huddled on the ground with angry lines on crumpled paper. I had been so upset then.
I stored the canvas pictures in my bedside drawer and shoved the depressing ones back into the folder. Zipping it closed, I placed it back under the bed before eying the clock on the wall. It was nearly nine, and I was getting thirsty.
Leaving the bedroom, I quietly made my way past the living room to see Phoenix still asleep. His head had fallen a little, mouth parted with quiet snores. I wonder what he had been doing to be so tired...
Deciding to leave him to it, I left as gently as I could and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I didn't pass anyone on the way down and drank a full glass of water before someone entered. Sean.
I narrowed my eyes at him and he froze in the doorway when he noticed me. He was dressed in just pyjama trousers, his torso bare. But that wasn't why I was staring at him; I had a bone to pick with him. Just as he went to pivot away, I called his name.
I heard him inhale before looking back at me, an exaggerated smile on his face. "Yeah?"
"Please, don't discuss my health behind my back." I frowned. "It's happened to me my whole life, and now it turns out I may struggle to even have children... Just please, I'm your friend, aren't I? We can tell each other things, right?"
He cocked his head, a frown coming on his face. "What's wrong?"
I licked my lips, feeling my eyebrows crease on my forehead. "I don't know."
He came over to me and took my elbows into his hands, my drink still in my grip. "Nova? Something must be bothering you. I can tell, you're nearly crying."
"Am not," I muttered, sniffing a little.
He chuckled, rubbing his hands on my elbow. "Okay, you're not. What is it? Why are you downstairs alone?"
I clenched my jaw, looking away from his pale grey eyes. "I have...I have a bad feeling."
I saw him frown as he stared at me, his mind trying to figure out what I mean. "About what...Phoenix? Having kids?"
I shook my head, a small smile on my face. "I am not unsure about Phoenix, that's definite... You know... how me and Pollux always say we have a sixth sense?"
He nodded. "Yeah, some creepy Lycan thing?"
I smirked at him, amused. "Yeah... well... Ever since the day after the battle, when the wolves ran home, Pollux asked me if I felt danger and I said no... I wasn't exactly lying but I wasn't being honest... I guess, what I'm trying to say is... something is coming. Something bad is going to happen and it's not strong enough yet to make it dangerous, but it's growing. It's not leaving my mind."
"Something bad?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I don't know when or how, but I can just...feel it, I guess. And my drawings? I think they're more than drawings."
"Like, what are you saying? They're visions?"
I nodded. "I think so."
He hummed, pulling his hands back to run them over his short hair. "That would make sense, you go into a daydream and don't come out for hours... And they're usually creepy."
I chuckled at him but nodded. "Exactly."
"Have you told Phoenix this?" He wondered.
I shrugged. "It only came to me the last few hours. I painted some new ones and it made me think. My head has been foggy after the doctor appointment and...well...I'm a little creeped out, to be honest with you."
"Can I see them?" He wondered.
I hesitated before nodding and allowing him access into my memories to see what I had painted today. Once his eyes cleared of the fog, he had a deep frown on his face. I wrinkled my nose, taking another drink as I glanced around the kitchen.
"Okay, so they do look scary." He muttered. "How about, we sleep on this, and then we talk with Phoenix about it tomorrow."
"I have a doctor appointment, I'm gonna be too stressed about that. We'll break it to him afterwards?"
"Okay," He grinned. "No backing out. We will figure this out soon, Nova. Don't worry, we are all safe. Patrol is on guard and Gaia is helping."
"She is?" I wondered I haven't seen her in so long...
"Yeah, she's put some kind of magic powder or something around the border where they broke through. Says it will help her have any visions if she can have contact with their spirit or something... I don't know." He shrugged.
I giggled shoving him playfully. "She's kind. You and Charlie need to stop being such wimps."
He frowned, a hand coming to his chest. "I am offended, Luna."
I forced the blush to stop, still not used to my closest friends calling me Luna. He laughed it off, slinging an arm around my shoulder before leading me back upstairs. He stopped at his floor and gave me a quick hug before reminding me we would talk about it later. I inhaled deeply before ascending my stairwell, entering the hallway and stopping at the living room door.
I opened it slowly, peeking my head around the door. What I wasn't expecting, was to find Phoenix sat upright on the sofa, his hand in his hair as he looked at my artwork. I froze in the doorway as his eyes lazily met mine.
"What's all these?"
••••
Do love a cliff hanger hahaha
word count: 2089
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