My Mafia Babysitter

eight

Violet

Vibrant purples, greens, and blues erupted from my paintbrush. I swirled the brush around the paint, mixing gold with periwinkle and smudging the paint along the canvas. My brush hovered over the charcoal black, my mind wandering to the night Niklaus had kissed me. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I touched my fingers to my lips. Out of all people on this planet, I never imagine Niklaus Hale to have been my first kiss. The door to my bedroom opened and closed, and I hollered to whoever entered that I was in the library. The door to my little sanctuary opened and I turned to view the devil himself leaning against my bookshelf. Cocking an eyebrow, I gave my attention back to my painting and attempted to hide the girlish blush that had risen to my face. 

"You're uncharacteristically quiet." Niklaus said quietly, his voice husky like he'd been asleep all day. 

"You're uncharacteristically not an asshole." I quipped, dabbing the paintbrush as I spoke. Nik's face scrunched up like he bit into a lemon, clearly unhappy with my response.

"Your mom's on the phone." 

"Okay." I slipped past him and out of the library. Plopping on the bed, I pulled up the phone and wrapped the cord around my index finger. "Mom?" 

"Violet, it's so nice to hear your voice, how are things going?" She asked, her voice sounding the most relax I've heard from her since that night back in New York. 

"It's been good, I'm staying safe and what not." I replied, wiping a bit of sweat away from my upper lip. 

"How're the Hale's treating my girl?" She smiled into the receiver. My eyes wandered to Niklaus who was watching me through hooded eyes in the doorway of the library. 

"Pretty good," I bit my lip and dragged my eyes away from the bipolar man in front of me. My mother continued to inform me that my father had a lead on who had paid my bodyguards to switch teams, but Dad had given her no other information beyond that. We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone. Sliding off of the bed, I padded back toward the library, nearly clothes-lining myself as Nik put his hand out to block my way in. My heart thumped hard in my chest, feeling like a bug under a microscope as he gazed down at me. Bringing his hand up, his thumb brushed across my lips. Heat scorched across my body, my breathing hard and shallow. Showing me a smudge of blue paint he had recovered from my skin, he turned on his heel and headed toward the door. 

"Dinner's at six." 

At six o' clock, I left my room in a pair of baby blue joggers and a plain white long sleeved shirt. As I closed my door, Ravon flagged me down to walk him to the dining hall. We talked about the gown he had fitted for me the night of Sebastian's birthday party. 

"How's it going with Klaus since, you know," He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I blushed, pushing him playfully. 

"I shouldn't have told you," I mumbled, feeling even my ears burn with embarrassment. 

"Oh come on girl, after years of knowing uptight Niklaus Hale, it's good to know the guy has thoughts beyond 'steal' and 'kill.'" Ravon and I entered the dining hall and where the entire Hale family greeted us with a polite nod. Feeling Nik's eyes on me, but I avoided eye contact. It had been almost a week since the kiss and besides when he wiped the paint off of my lip, we had avoided almost all contact with each other. He informed me of calls for me and when to be at meals, but otherwise we completely stayed away from each other. 

I sat down, folding my hands in my lap as one of the maids asked me what I'd like for dinner. Once I had ordered a bowl of broccoli Alfredo noodles, Ravon ordered a Southwest salad and began talking about an issue of Vogue he had shown me at my fitting. After dinner, Ravon walked me back to my room and kissed my cheek goodnight before I entered my bedroom. I painted for an hour, changing my original painting of cool colors to warm reds, oranges, and yellows. Changing into a big shirt and a pair of panties, I slipped into bed and turned on the nightstand lamp to read. Having fallen asleep a couple hours in reading, the lights of my bedroom flicked on and I squinted under the harsh artificial lighting.