godhead [COMPLETED]

55

My eyes quickly averted to Donatello as he carried three vines over his sweaty shoulders. Effortlessly, he swung them near the well before dropping the bucket to scoop some water from its base.

He didn't see us in the shade of the garden until Mrs. Montonia called out for him. "DONATELLO! Come join us for Dulce Lécha Fresca!" She signals him with an eager hand.

He nodded, walking over for the treat but quickly frowns once he sees me. His mother pours him the drink but he stands at a distance, staring at the ice in his drink.

Lazily, he lifts his eyes and watches me. Both us were eyeing each other but barely speaking.

It was the strangest thing. We were usually so in tune with our thoughts, but for some reason, I could hit read him. Before I could open my mouth to speak, he sighs and turns away.

"Donatello!" his mother calls out, trying to plead with him but he ignores her and continues onto the vineyard.

—-

"Thank you Ms. Montania, the food is delightful and this arroz con bistec is delicious"

"Ahh muy bien" she beamed. I looked over at Donatello but he refused to watch me, paying attention only to his food.

"You should be proud of your son. He paints beautifully" I try to break the air of uncomfortableness.

"Funny? You were not too fond of them earlier empress? Remember at the museum? You said it was not your cup of tea?"

I fumed, furrowing my brows and trying to tell him to knock it off.

"Guess the memory escapes you..." he mutters, loud enough so everyone at the table could hear.

I look at Oslo but he is too preoccupied with the food. I turn my attention to Mrs. Montonia but she looked just as confused as me. She didn't know what she could say to help the situation. She had already been trying her hardest.

"I am going to go. Excuse me" Donatello snatched the napkin from his neck and threw it above the table before storming out.

"Wow!" Picazzo smirks, cutting into his food before looking at me. "I have never seen him that angry. What did you do to him?"

"Nothing!" I cursed, throwing my own napkin on my plate. I cross my shoulders and looked at the floor, trying my hardest not to cry. I missed Donatello so much. I had finally told him my truth but he was wedging an ever greater distance between us.

"Look...I am not one to insert myself into personal affairs such as these"

"Hmmffff" Mrs. Montonia scoffed, already clocking his lie.

"Donatello is not that complex empress. Just talk to him"

"He will not let me talk to him" I answered.

"Then you must force him to hear you. You know where he is."

——-

I sneak to his painting wing, situated on the outskirts of his mansion.
I didn't care if he hated me. He should at least give me the opportunity to explain.

I see him painting another portrait in the distance. I couldn't see what the subject was but I had a feeling it was me.

He makes a couple of more strokes on the canvas before lifting his gaze.

"I want a portrait"

"It's late empress" he mutters, "go to sleep" he dismisses me.

"So? I once knew a painter who bragged he could never sleep?"