Her - S01 E17

Story 5 months ago

Her - S01 E17

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 17

Ashton Creed

I sat on the couch. Olivia's studio was a giant mess and it was utterly captivating. There wasn't a place I liked more in the mansion. She had tried to tidy up, I could see the neatly stacked canvases and the clean brushes, but the carpet still reeked of oil and acrylic paint, and her easel was covered with too many colors.

I looked down at my phone. The calls with her were good. But it was as if I couldn't bring myself to accept the fact that she was safe till I had her in my arms. Zavier was there which eased my worries slightly but he'd be back soon and we had decided to give her a week free of us.

There were times I wanted to drag her back here but I knew she was not the kind of woman who'd be fulfilled by just belonging to someone. Olivia may be a submissive, but she still held so much fire inside of her. Admirable? Yes. Utterly infuriating? More so.

And her need to stay in that pathetic excuse of a room just fueled my discomfort. We didn't have much of a hold on Paris. Yes, things could always be arranged but forming alliances like that took time.

I picked up one of her sketchbooks from the bookshelf. It was an old one, one of the few we had been able to recover from her apartment. She didn't mind us seeing the ones here. She had taken many with her.

I opened it. The first sketch was of her University here. The second of Alisa. I picked up one of the oldest sketchbooks.

Inside was her father - smiling and painted with warm colors and then there was her mother, painted with shades of blue and grey. There was a building that must have been her school. There was a rabbit, hiding in the bushes. There were some people I didn't recognize and more buildings I didn't know.

I picked the latest one I could find.

And then there was me.

I was sitting in a library and a window beside me showed rain falling. My head was bent, a book in my hands.

Little one, it was scrawled beside the sketch. It was of the rainy day she and I first read together. There were intense details in the sketch, untouched by color but not lacking anything.

I shuffled through it. It was filled with sketches of me. All of them are beautiful.

I pocketed the sketchbook, feeling too warm all of a sudden. I found two more sketchbooks, one filled with Zavier and the other with Xerxes. I knew she sketched us, but not to this extent.

It was flattering.

I called her after checking the time.

"Hello, Ashton," she sounded out of breath.

"What are you doing?"

"So," she groaned. "many," she took a deep breath. "Stairs."

I laughed. "What's up with the elevator?"

"Stupid thing broke," she grumbled. "My dorm is on the third floor. They expect me to climb this monstrosity for three days before it gets fixed." She sighed.

I barely kept myself from saying she should live at the apartment again. Three days without her voice had been hell. I hated hurting her.

"I'll make sure it gets fixed soon," I said. "Where is Zavier?"

"He is making out with his car," she huffed.

I laughed. "Don't tell me he bought a car."

"He did. It's the same one he already has. He said he needed one here."

"A good thing, then, no? You can use it, too."

"You think he'll let me drive?" She sounded hopeful.

"If he doesn't, I'll buy one for you."

I could hear the smile in her voice. "I shouldn't like this as much as I do."

I smiled. "I'll buy you whatever you want."

I heard her opening a door. "I miss you so much."

"You do?"

"Mhm." I heard the rustling of the sheets. "I do. Do you miss me?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Is Xerxes there?"

"No. I'm in your studio. Xerxes is grilling someone at the office."

"He loves being the big bad CEO."

"He does," I agreed.

"Why don't you like it?" She asked.

"It's boring. Sitting in meetings while the other person sweats through their suit. I'd rather be in a classroom."

She was silent for a moment. "I...I sometimes forget that you never got to complete school. You're so smart."

"I've been told I didn't miss much." Usually by Kylie when she had homework.

"Maybe," she said. "You know, You'd be the hot nerd. Xerxes would be the quiet jock. Zavier would be the bad boy."

"And you?"

She paused. "I'd be the girl you'd never notice."

"Little one."

"It's the truth," she said. "I still don't get why you're with me."

"We are with you because you've given us more acceptance than anyone has ever given us," I said. "We are with you because life without you was hell, baby. You made it better. You make us better." I sighed. "All I am saying is that this nerd would have noticed you in a heartbeat."

I could again hear the smile in her voice. "I love you."

"I love you too, Little one. I'll be there soon."

"I'll be waiting."

. . .

"You two should get stickers which say 'I am in misery' and stick them to your forehead."

I looked up at Michael. "What are you even doing here?"

"You have good wine." And he marched to the cellar.

Xerxes looked at me, his glasses on his nose. "Throw him out."

I put my feet on the table, relaxing back in my seat with my book on my lap. "I am not moving."

He sighed, moving his eyes back to his file. "He will drink your scotch, too."

"He will drink your whiskey more."

Xerxes put the file down. "Fucking hell."

I chuckled, flipping a page. "Get me a glass."

"Shut the fuck up."

I heard a crack.

I looked at the window beside me. A three shook slightly. I saw a pale hand emerge, lit by the moonlight.

I sighed and grabbed my gun from the nightstand. Now that Olivia wasn't here, we didn't have to hide our weapons as much.

I walked out of the mansion to where I had seen him.

I paused a few steps away from him. He was crawling himself out of the mud.

He looked up.

I smiled. "Going somewhere?"

He cowered. "Please," his voice was rough. He coughed. I didn't even know which one he was. Was he the one Giovanni had bought?

One of the Blood MC members.

"Do you have anything useful to say?" I asked.

He looked me straight in the eye. And then he laughed.

I tilted my head. Had he gone insane?

"You trust her," he whispered. "She is behind it all. Hates the mafia, she says. You took it from her, she says."

"Who?"

He laughed again and when it became clear he wasn't interested in saying anything more, I shot him between the eyes.

. . .