Pure Belleza | ✔️

(43)

"Yep, that's perfect," I told Amalia, standing back from where she was hanging one of Elias' new paintings in the gallery.

I handed her the little tool she needed and watched her on the step ladder.

Her skin tight, long sleeve, turtle neck dress fell to the middle of her thighs. Her tan, toned legs stemmed down into white vans.

We were definitely dating. I'm not sure that 'girlfriend' would be the right term at the moment.

But ever since we'd almost had sex on her tattoo chair two days ago, things had been more intimate.

Openly intimate. Not just subtle flirting and compliments. She made me feel confident.

"Do you have plans this weekend?" I stood beside the ladder and made sure to be attentive in case she lost her footing.

She peeped down at me, her hair fell over her face. I wanted to move it. "I'm going over to a friend's from school. She reached out on Instagram and said there were a couple of the girls getting together for wine. Figured I might as well."

I smiled, glad that she was going to be having some time to herself. She worked a lot. And spent a lot of time with her sister and Dad. She deserved girl time.

"How about you?"

"Yeah, I have family plans," I said as she dropped down beside me. "That looks great. I can't get over the talent."

She folded her arms and smiled at the painting. A sunset. Elias did a lot of those over various parts of Spain. But it wasn't repetitive.

Each one was unique and vibrant. Full of gorgeous colour and culture that made you want to be right there. In the real place.

"I would love to go back to Barcelona," she murmured. "I haven't been back since I was a kid. My mom still lives there and it'll sound stupid but I've always been afraid of bumping into her."

"You have? Not a good relationship?"

Her head stayed angled upward but her gaze floated to the floor, her brows pulled in confusion. "Lucas didn't tell you?"

I shook my head. Lucas kept his brief relationship with Amalia to himself. I was preoccupied at that time anyway.

She lightly laughed through her nose. "My mom was very abusive towards my dad when I was a child. Extremely violent. It took him a long time to leave because he was so in love with her. And I know it broke his heart when he did leave - he loved her so much - but he knew it wasn't good for Berne's and I."

"I can't imagine how hard that must have been."

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked. Her inhale echoed around the vacant gallery. "Yeah it was rough. I used to be so scared of commitment because I was worried I would end up like her. Ya know? I didn't feel violent. But it scared me to imagine snapping and turning into that."

I nodded and reached for her hand, lacing our fingers together. "It's a reasonable fear I suppose."

Her hand squeezed mine a little tighter. "Yeah but I know I'm not like her. My choices, who I am and what I do, they don't belong to someone else. I think people find it too easy to blame their behaviour on their upbringing or their circumstances. It's a loophole. An excuse. But at the end of the day, you choose who you are. And if you struggle with behaviour because it was your environment, you can get help. But people choose not to do that too."

She was right. No doubt about it. Her intelligence and her outlook on life, it made my heart trip with admiration.

I drew her forward and rested a hand on her hip. Instinctually, her hands rested on my shoulders. "I don't think I've met anyone quite like you before," I murmured with my lips to her forehead.