Page 84 of Broken Obsession

“The one with the lady standing in the shadows?”

“Was that a lady?”

“Maybe it was a man. I didn’t look very long.”

“He doesn’t usually draw things like that…”

“If you’re so worried about him, why don’t you bring him something from the school store? He likes those lemon chocolates, the ones with the salt crystals?”

The second girl laughed. “How do you know that?”

Eden stopped listening, taking off in the direction they’d just come. He hadn’t been shown the location of the art building during the tour yesterday, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Ares had left it out on purpose.

He was calling the Black Hart within minutes, shoving the earbud into his ear so the call would be private as he continued down the paths, looking for a sign for the right building. His first attempt went unanswered, and with a curse, he stubbornly hit the redial button.

“Starling,” Ares finally picked up after the third try.

“Where are you?”

“Is this an emergency?”

“Lucifer.” It’d been hours since their fight, and while part of Eden was tempted to ignore what he’d just heard—because it served Ares right after the shit he’d said—the other part was…anxious. What if he was in the throes of another episode, seeing things that weren’t really there?

Ares sighed, the sound weighted and filled with all the annoyance of a kid being chided by their parent. “I’m at studio b6.”

Eden caught sight of a large sign printed in gold hanging over a four-story white and glass building. “Wait for me.”

He hung up before the Black Hart could rebut with a snide remark.

* * *

Most of the walls within the building were made of glass, allowing natural light to pour in. Spaces were left open, only divided into sections and rooms when necessary, so Eden got a look at many students lost in their own worlds as they worked at an easel or over a slab of clay.

B6 was all the way up on the top level, and he’d taken the elevator to get there, not wanting to waste any time despite his interest in the artists. The whole place felt buzzing yet peaceful, the type of feeling one could only find during bursts of creativity. It’d been a long while since he’d felt that sort of elation himself, and he was drawn to it now.

But Ares had to come first.

The Black Hart would be useless to him if he lost his mind in front of people and ended up committed.

At least, that was the reason Eden told himself as he made his way down a sprawling hallway with buttery yellow floorboards, peeking not so subtly into glass rooms as he went. B6 was at the far back, and he found the door open already.

The walls connected to the hallway were frosted, but when he stepped inside, the entire outer wall was made of windows overlooking the east quad and the forest it led to.

Ares sat in the center, his back to the glass, an easel blocking most of him from Eden’s view. The sounds of graphite rolling over paper filled the room, and on a small square dais a few feet away, a bowl of fruit modeled for him.

For the first time ever, the Black Hart didn’t seem to notice Eden. He approached leisurely, taking the opportunity to look his fill without having to guard his reactions. After their argument this morning, concealing his attraction was even more important than ever, especially since it infuriated Eden that he still felt it at all.

If anyone else had threatened to lock him up and make him the equivalent of a sex slave, he would have either punched them or fled. A smart person would be on a plane, halfway to the middle of nowhere, with the plan to hide away forever. Yet here Eden was, hovering just over Ares’ shoulder, admiring his work like it wasn’t baffling that those hands currently creating such delicate lines were the same ones that had peeled the flesh from Zonnie’s bones layer by layer.

The same ones that could bring unimaginable pleasure when those long fingers buried between Eden’s cheeks and prepared him for—

“You’re here,” Ares sounded one part relieved and two parts fascinated, as if he hadn’t actually expected Eden to keep his word and show up.

Clearing his throat, he straightened. “You don’t seem like you’re losing your mind.”

Ares' brow furrowed. “Who said I was fracturing?”

“No one specifically,” he was forced to admit. “I just heard…Well. It doesn’t matter since you seem fine.”