❝He's gotta get out of his head
And go inside his heart
If only he would recognize
That she's a work of art❞

My body had been trained to awake to the sound of my alarm, blaring from the nightstand. It's the routine I'd established in the almost four months of living here. This morning was the first to break it.

Instead of my alarm, I awoke to Harper's laughter.

Funny how months ago, I would have equated the sound of it to a sordid battle cry but now, it was all I could do not to keep my heart from combusting inside of my chest.

I yawned and rolled over and onto my back, my arms blindly patting her side of the bed. This time, the mattress was still warm with the lingering traces of her body but still...no Harper.

I started to sit up when the sound of her laughter grew closer, followed by the sinking of the mattress.

"Aiden. What is this?"

Rubbing my eyes, I blinked away the blurry spots in my vision and honed in on her.

Dark waves left down, plundering down her back like a river cascade. Amber eyes sharp and alive as they roamed over my face, taking in every detail as I did hers. Her normally pink lips darker and puffed from hours spent kissing me the previous night.

She was the vision.

"G'morning Inks," I mumbled sleepily, shooting her a half-lidded lazy grin. "What are you doing so far away?"

I grumpily moved closer to her and looped my arms around her waist, pulling her into my chest. All the while, I noted the fact that she was still laughing.

Hopefully not over the events of the night.

"Well, I was on my way to grab the bottle of water from your work desk when this little notepad of yours caught my eye."

Oh.

Oh no.

Instinct kicked in, erasing all the traces of romance from my body. I pulled back from Harper to grab the spiral-bound pad from her hand but she was faster.

She hopped back on the bed, holding it far from my reach. It was only then I noticed, she'd thrown on my smock. My finally paint-splattered, color-stricken smock.

"You ignite an inferno within me, capable of burning the whole world down," she read in a voice that was a poor imitation of mine, "and the next, you make me want to paint the skies with the burning colors from your eyes."

My face flushed and I lunged forward.

She shot to the side, agile as a cat and I fell face-first into the mattress.

"Oooh, I like this version," she continued, cackling to herself. "All this while, I've been searching for my muse and not realizing she lived next door to me."

My body grew limp and I didn't even bother turning over, stuffing my face into the bed.

Yeah, there was no coming back from this.

"I'm convinced I've spent more than years, Harper. I'm convinced I've lived entire lifetimes searching for the hand that would guide me to paint from my heart once again. Awh, Aiden."

I felt a hand smack my ass. My naked ass. Hard.

For a girl that had been shy as a kitten last night, Harper had all but transformed into a devious little devil.

I turned over to see her clutching my notepad to her chest, eyes appreciative but her lips said otherwise, featuring a shit-eating grin that made me want to yeet myself out the bay window.

"You practiced your lines for last night? That's adorable."

She flicked through the notepad, eyes glittering with unshed tears of humor.

I watched her, propping my face in my palm as she continued to read through other variations of dialogues I'd practiced. I knew I had to come prepared with the right things to say to convey my feelings for her. Unlike her, I was no writer.

Like she had aptly labelled me, I was an utter dumbass and often said the wrong things at the worst times. I couldn't risk that happening last night.

"This here is gold."

Before she could launch into another cringeworthy attempt of mine at romantic prose, I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her down onto the bed.

Harper let out a yelp, her dark hair fanning the sheets as she dropped the notepad and clutched my arms on reflex.

"What are you—"

"What's gold is you, devil cub," I whispered and nuzzled my face into her neck.

She always smelled like a goddamn meadow.

"Wearing my smock. Where'd you get it?"

"It...it was on your chair."

And just like that, she'd gone putty in my hands again. I pulled back, enough to see her red face. Smiling, I let my hands slip under the fabric, journeying up the valley of her soft skin. She gasped when one of my hands found her sensitive little center.

To my surprise, she was wet.

"Are you going to be one of those girls that steals their boyfriend's clothes all the time?"

The question slipped out of my lips before I'd realized. My finger circling her entrance stilled, brain short circuiting.

Shit shit shit.

That's not at all how I'd planned to ask her. Hell, I had a whole other page in that notepad filled with ideas for that but she fortunately hadn't gotten that far enough.

What did it matter when I'd let my motor mouth say that?

"I mean," I double-backed, taking in the surprise in her eyes. "Not that you have to be. My girlfriend, I mean. Last night, I—"

"I probably will," she cut in.

"Huh?"

Harper touched the side of my face and smiled softly.

"Be the kind of girlfriend to steal your clothes. After all..."

She traced a hand down my chest, setting off goosebumps in her wake.

"You're much cuter naked."

Was that a yes?

I didn't get much time to deliberate.

Harper's hand closed around me just as she lifted her hips, driving my fingers into her. We both sighed, our bodies caving into each other and coming undone yet another time.

And judging by the way she kissed me and melted into my arms, I knew it wouldn't be the last.

Thanksgiving day was spent in our bedroom with a minimal portion of it in the kitchen when Harper attempted to cook me a feast. Attempted being the key word.

It didn't take me long to convince her the only feast I needed was in between her thighs. Afterwards, I'd proclaimed my heartfelt thanks to the kitchen island, earning a smack from her on my shoulder.

And once we'd finished making a mess of the cooking area, we'd hopped in the tub for a nice long soak together. I started to see the appeal behind it. I didn't mind long baths as long as I had her to share them with.

With the hours spent talking, kissing, and making love, I'd almost forgotten what the next day would entail.

Almost, until Harper got up from our bed at 11:15 p.m. and started getting dressed again.

"What are you doing?" I'd slurred, practically drunk on the copious amounts of sex we'd had over the day.

"I'm going to get my laptop."

"Right now?"

"I have to go over my reply to Tris."

That sobered me straight up.

I sat up instantly, watching Harper grab her shorts and wiggle them on before hopping out of my room. My chest started to ache at what was to follow. I hadn't expected any of this to happen when I gifted her the painting but it had. And now that I was with her, the idea of saying goodbye for real made me sick to my stomach.

Harper padded into the room again in her flip flops with her Chromebook tucked under her arm. I wiped the worry off my face as she sunk back down into the bed next to me.

Doing my best to sound unbiased, I sat up and pulled the sheets over my naked form, suddenly feeling a chill.

"So, you've decided?"

"Yup."

"Great," I replied weakly.

She opened her laptop and started to bring up her email.

Thud thud thud.

Was it even possible for a human heart to race the way mine was?

She opened a document side by side, scrolling over it. I didn't mean to stare but I could make out by the fine script that it was a contract.

When she scrolled down to the end of it, my eyes caught what looked like her e-signature.

And just like that, the thudding stopped, replaced by what felt like a flatline.

My heart stilled in my chest as I took in the sight of her signature, before she closed the PDF and drag-and-dropped into the email.

"Dear Ms. Henderson, please find attached the revised and signed contract, yada yada yada, thank you for your time and I look forward to hearing from you about the next steps. Sincerely, Harper M. Collins," she murmured to herself, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"And send!"

I watched her hit the button. I heard the whoosh sound-effect from her email. I was positive I tasted blood in my mouth.

Fuck, how hard had I been chewing the inside of my cheek?

"Now that's done," Harper muttered, setting her laptop on the nightstand and turning to me, "I was thinking...we could..."

Her fingers innocently climbed up my leg and she wiggled her eyebrows at me, not-so-innocently.

Unlike my dick, it was my throat that felt like stone.

"Maybe later," I said, words blank. "I don't think...I'm kind of tired."

"Oh."

She pouted but dropped her hand.

"I'm sorry. I know today's been a lot but I've been really, really enjoying it."

I almost smiled at that. It was no surprise that ErosInk would have the sexual libido of a succubus. All she'd had to do was unleash it. But my head, to put it frankly, wouldn't be in the game.

"So have I, Harp. But you should rest up. Your body needs it."

"Alright," she shrugged, so cavalier about it. "But before that, get me your laptop."

She didn't wait for me to do that, hopping off the bed and grabbing mine off my desk.

"What for?"

"You'll see. Log in to your email for me please."

Curious, I did as she asked. She proceeded to open my email and start drafting a new one. When I leaned in to take a close look, she shooed me away, saying its a surprise.

A whole ten minutes went by, with Harper consulting some texts on her phone a couple times, before finally handing my laptop back to me.

"Here. Read this."

Intrigued, I did as she asked, eyes flitting over the email she'd drafted.

Dear Mr. Smith,

My name is Aiden Mitchell. We met earlier this month at The Hole where I admired Ellie Park's paintings. If you recall, you asked me to reach out and share samples of my work—

Thud thud thud.

My heart was functioning again.

"Harper..." I gulped, reading through the rest of the email and the various attachments and links she'd dragged into it. "What is this?"

"An email," she answered innocently.

"I can see that, smart ass. But what for? And..."

My eyes wandered to a new link I didn't recognize. When I clicked on it, it took me to the entirety of my completed digital project — the one Megan had destroyed.

"How did you get this?"

"From Megan, of course," Harper answered casually. "When you told me she gave you back the hard drive this morning, I figured she'd have all of it backed up online too. So I texted her and asked her for the link."

"But why—"

"Your work is too precious not to be seen by the world, Aiden," Harper interrupted. "And while I disagree with your mother's approach, there is one thing she was right about. Having the right contacts can come in handy. And you got Jasper's all on your own. It's worth a shot. Besides, if he's representing Ellie Park, one of your favorite indie artists, maybe his values would line up with yours. At the least," she nudged me, "you have to try."

I stared at the email. Then at her again.

"What about you?"

Harper blinked, the smile on her face wavering in confusion.

"What about me?"

"When do you move to DC?"

When do you leave me?

It's as if she knew that's what I was really asking her. Harper's smile vanished and I waited, the ache in my chest growing heavier by the second, as she watched me, biting her lip.

"So...promise you won't be mad?"

Oh great, was she leaving tomorrow?

Harper sighed and took a deep breath. She wrung her hands together nervously, her eyes dropping before she spoke in a rush.

"So I'm not really moving to DC. In fact, I kind of rejected Tris's offer."

"What?"

Harper winced then met my eyes again, nervousness in her own.

"I rejected the contract Tris sent over."

"But..." I gestured at her laptop. "You had your signature on the contract. The one you sent over."

"I did. That was my own contract."

"Huh?"

Harper sighed again and grabbed her Chromebook off the nightstand, booting it up. She opened her email once more then handed it over to me.

"See?"

And I did.

My eyes took in every detail of the email she had sent Tris. The words 'I must respectfully reject your proposal' followed by 'I have one of my own and have attached my terms and signed contract.' I then clicked the PDF and scanned the contents.

The nausea gave way to relief followed by silent pride as I read over what Harper had done.

"The reason I'd been working my ass off after we got back from Pittsburgh is because I was doing a lot of research," Harper confessed while I continued to read. "I knew the DC offer from Innovus was too good to pass on but after the way I'd been treated at FinTrix, the idea of going back into a full-time role as some corporate cog just didn't sit well with me and so I did the research and designed a contract where I could work as an—"

"External consultant," I finished for her.

My eyes lifted from the screen and to her hopeful ones.

"I've told Tris we can sign all the NDAs in the world that she needs and I'll fly into DC when she wants me there. But that I would operate as my own person, and not an Innovus employee. I know she needs someone on the ground here in New York too so why not just do that in an independent capacity? This also means I can get to work faster for her without the hustle and bustle of relocating to their office in DC. And well..."

Harper shrugged.

"It's a take it or leave it offer."

"And a very expensive one at that," I whistled, going over the fee structure Harper laid out. She rightfully deserved every penny she earned from her hard work.

"You were right, Aiden."

She touched my hand, earning my attention once more.

"I shouldn't have to choose. And I know I'll have to take on a loan to pay Lukas's care for next year but I'm sure I can manage it somehow."

And that's when it hit me.

The last component of her Thanksgiving present that, amidst the pheromone and dopamine infused day, had completely slipped my mind.

"About that..."

I cleared my throat the same time Harper's eyes narrowed.

"About what?"

"There's one more thing..."

Before I could finish the sentence, I was met by a strong, loud smack on the chest.

"Okay first of all, ouch," I deadpanned, rubbing the spot where her hand print would surely show up.

"What did you do?" she cried.

By the look on her face, she full well knew it already. Nevertheless, I got to my feet and walked over to my table. Unlocking the credenza underneath it, I opened the top drawer and pulled out the receipt, bringing it over to her.

"Here you go," I said, offering her the rectangular piece of paper silently.

She knew what it was but her eyes grew glassy as she took it, eyes roaming over the number that confirmed it.

I crouched down on my knees in front of her and put my arms on her legs, leaning in.

"Lukas's care is taken care of for the next year. All of us pitched in for this so you don't have to worry about it anymore, okay?"

"But...how did you afford it?"

It was my turn to shrug.

"I dipped into my trust fund."

"The one you helped Aryan with?"

I stared at her.

"How did you know about that?"

"He told me," she admitted. Then hit me again. "You shouldn't have. That's your money."

"And I decide what to do with it," I declared with a tone of finality.

Cupping her chin, I lifted her gaze to meet mine and smiled.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Harper."

A big fat splotchy tear fell on my arm, followed by another. She wiped away at her eyes with a grunt, folding the receipt and tucking it into her shorts pocket.

"You look ridiculous like that, butt naked on the floor Shortcake."

"Oh?" I looked down at myself. "I would say this is the perfect pose for you to paint me in, if anything, Lady InksALot."

"The perfect pose to kick your ass in, yes."

"Don't you mean kiss?" I grinned and it got through to her, earning a small tug at her lips.

"I'll find a way to make this up to you guys, I swear it," Harper vowed with all the passion of a pirate lord. "But for now, get Jasper Smith's card and type in his address. Then hit send."

"Aye aye, cap'n."

I trotted over to the credenza once more, took out his business card that I'd safely stored away, all the while conscious of Harper's eyes on my body. When I turned around, she pretended she'd been staring at the wall.

Nice ploy.

When I sat back down and pulled my laptop closer, Harper moved quickly to my side, practically slapping her face into the side of my own.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you actually send the email. Now go!"

I rolled my eyes and typed in his email ID then scanned over the draft a last time, tweaking some phrases to sound more like me. When I was finally satisfied, my mouse hovered over the "Send" button.

Harper moved behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, resting her chin on the top of my head.

"You got this, sweetheart."

My lips curved and I hit 'Send.'

We both let out our breath afterward and snuggled back in bed.

It was our second night sleeping together but it felt so strangely familiar. The way her body curved and fit perfectly into the side of mine as we cuddled, like we'd practiced this for a millennia.

"I was thinking..." Her words carried a hint of hesitation, her breath warming the skin on my neck, now her favored resting place. "I have another draft I want you to take a look at tomorrow."

"Hmm?"

She gulped.

"It's to Rosalie Edmunds."

Of Artistry Publishing.

"Oh."

She lifted her head up and met my waiting eyes, a pinch of what looked like remorse in hers.

"It would be a miracle if she agreed to meet me again after how I behaved last time but...I want to give the publishing deal another try."

"But I thought you were against Forbidden Lilies adapted as a webtoon."

"I was," she admitted, her eyes shifting to a lighter tone as they gazed in the direction of the canvas. "But with you as the artist," her eyes met mine with a vulnerable honesty, "I have no doubt you'd breathe life into the story. I can't imagine anyone better to work on it."

Her revelation touched something deep within me, a sense of validation and purpose I hadn't realized I craved from her. To be chosen not just for talent but for an intimate understanding of her vision was the best gift she could have given me.

But her revelations didn't stop there.

"I'm also thinking I want to publish under my own name," she admitted, her voice tinged with resolve. "ErosInk will always be a part of me but...it's time the world knew my writing as Harper Mae Collins."

A rush of emotions surged through me—admiration for her courage, excitement for the project, and a growing affection for this woman whose vulnerabilities I'd come to love.

Without a word, I pulled her closer, answering her with an even tighter embrace. The warmth of her presence was grounding, and in that moment, my gratitude for her trust overflowed.

"Whatever you want, Inks," I whispered into her forehead. "I'll do everything I can to honor your writing and support your choices, artistic and otherwise."

Harper's arms wrapped around my waist. I could already feel her slipping into sleep, having released the weight in her chest.

"I guess we'll have the answers in our emails soon enough," she murmured into my skin.

"Nah, Inks." I smoothed the back of her hair, the smile of an optimist tugging at my lips. "We'll make our own answers, regardless. Together."

"Mhmm," Harper hummed. "As Inks and Pixels."

I chuckled at that.

"Inks and Pixels... Has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

Harper's answer came in the form of soft snores into my chest. I smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, pulling the sheets over us.

And for the first time in my life, I slept knowing that whatever lay ahead, be it a path forged in inked lines, digital pixels, or the strokes of a paint brush we both guided together — our creations would come from the heart.

____

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Song: Work of Art by Alex J. Price and Gabriel