Time ✔️

Chapter Ten

Word Count: 1564

~Rosie

Art.

It took me a solid few moments to comprehend everything within the room. Easels, canvases smeared with a variety of striking colours. There's one window at the other end of the room, but it's small, letting in next to no light, yet I can still see all the paintings vividly in front of me. Each one is different. Some are strung on the wall, others propped against each other, cast to the side, as if they mean nothing. Yet, they are all masterpieces in themselves.

Did Time do this?

I approach one of the canvases, and it's not exactly what I would have expected from him. Watercolours blend and mix beautifully on the page, creating a portrait of a woman. She's stunning. Long, golden hair, eyes as silver as steel. On this painting, she wears a turquoise dress that swirls around her hips.

"Your audacity surprises me every day," I hear from behind me. Not bothering to turn around, I continue staring at the painting.

"We're mates now. Shouldn't we be more honest with each other?" I ask softly, finally turning around to face him. He leans against the doorframe to the room, watching me. He doesn't look angry that I invaded his privacy.

Not that I care much for his reaction.

"I suppose you just unveiled my greatest, darkest secret," he muses, motioning to his room.

I suppose it's just a hobby, and Time is being sarcastic. I don't doubt he has darker, more sinister secrets that I don't plan on bringing to light. Not yet, at least. I have bigger, better priorities. Wading through paint pots and brushes isn't one of them, yet I couldn't help but be curious. This is a glimpse into his mind, which isn't as dark and frightening as I first expected. Whoever this woman is, he sees her in great light.

"Who is she?" I ask, motioning to the painting. Those eyes are haunting, looking into my soul. Whoever she is, in person, she must be so much more striking. I wonder if she is still alive, or from Time's past.

"Now that, is a dark secret of mine," he states, stepping into the room. "One I'd like to keep to my chest."

Great. Now I'm curious.

"Well, I met your brother. As handsome as he is, he's not all that helpful. To me, at least," I comment. I took care to through in a note about his appearance. It's uncanny how alike Thought and Time are, however, the slight differences are what make them their own.

Time's expression falls at the mention of his brother. Now I've gotten his attention. Just his reaction alone is enough to suggest their relationship is not that of a common family. I plan of using that in the future, if I get the chance to. I decide to voice my assumptions, wanting him to admit something about his brother that I don't know.

"When you're alive for eternity, family tend to get on your nerves," he comments.

"Twins?"

A muscle in Time's jaw ticks, a flicker in that golden eye appearing. Maybe he isn't so hard to bother as I first assumed. Whatever goes on in that mind of his is admittedly fascinating, and not yet known to me. Still, though, I know one thing. Him and his brother don't get along. It might not seem like much, but it could mean leverage against him in the future. And leverage is worth a million, to an Immortal.

"You should go back to sleep," is all he says, before he turns, walking out the room. I watch his back, covered in a black tunic, as he walks away.

I'm not going to leave. Not just yet.

The paintings intrigue me. His talent is remarkable, but when you all eternity to work on them, it's not wonder they are so...perfect. I would never tell him that, though. His ego is large enough without me adding to it. I'll simply admire in peace.