Page 123 of Sweet Obsession

“Out.”

Nikolai scrambled for the door, muttering, “Touchy. You try to help one emotionally tortured couple and suddenly you’re the villain...”

The door slammed behind him.

I blinked. Then...

I laughed.

It slipped out of me like breath after drowning. An actual laugh. Light, real, absurd.

Misha stared like I’d grown a second head.

“What?” I asked, breathless.

“You’re laughing.”

“I know. It’s horrifying.”

A flicker of a smile ghosted over his mouth.

And just like that, the air shifted again.

Not back to sadness. Not quite.

But something lighter. Something real.

I stepped toward the easel, placed my hand on the untouched canvas.

My voice was quiet, but steady. “Tell Nikolai if he touches another one of my sketchbooks, I will murder him. Slowly. With pastel pencils.”

Misha smirked. “I’ll make sure he suffers.”

“And...” I hesitated, then looked back at him. “Thank you. For this.”

He didn’t say anything. He just nodded once and left me to paint.

And this time, when I dipped the brush in color, it didn’t feel like bleeding.

It felt like coming home.

About an hour later, I was still there, not painting anything specific, just movement. Light. A blur of shadows curling into something almost human.

I was so deep in the strokes I didn’t hear him approach.

Until his hand landed near mine.

“What are you doing?” I asked without looking.

“I’m watching.”

I turned my head. He was beside me now, close enough to touch. “You don’t watch. You stalk.”

He smirked faintly. “Same difference.”

I shook my head and kept painting.

He didn’t move away.