PAINTER'S MODEL

19: MISTAKE

CHAPTER 19: MISTAKE

At this point, you knew you'd fucked up. Big time.

"–!"

Your mouth fell agape as you looked down from where you hanged.

Your faith relied on your hands that gripped tightly around the concrete edge.

Your legs dangled off. The wind blows against you, making you almost lose hold.

"This view is amazing, isn't it?" Calvin kneeled down. He brings his face closer to yours with a scrutinizing look.

He's mocking you.

"How about I draw you here?" He cooed. "Maybe this could be the final painting of my series entitled, 'Naive Beloved.' Hm? How 'bout that?" He provoked.

Suddenly, he pulls out a small notebook and a mechanical pencil from within his tuxedo. Despite its size, it's big enough to fit a sketch.

You honestly don't know what to do in this situation. Your hands are slightly getting sweaty but the wind helps them dry.

The wind is still a bit of a problem though. Since you're in an open area, and not to mention, on top of a high building, the wind is quite strong to the point where it made your legs sway along.

All you have to do now is to stay patient and wait for someone to help you. There's a possibility Calvin isn't being too serious about this. He wouldn't just throw you off a roof and let you die, right? You literally just got married yesterday.

However, the artist began to draw lines and shapes on a page of that notebook, which shows that he is indeed serious about this.

'Stay patient, (Y/N). Stay patient.'

You tried to reassure yourself that this won't be the end of you. There's got to be an angel or something looking after you, right?

Your hands are beginning to sweat more than before.

You tried to calm your palpitating heart by taking in sharp and steady breaths to calm yourself down.

His eyes would occasionally pierce through your own, gaze at your body, and move back to the formed figure on his notebook.

You trust his skills in finishing an artwork immediately.

After finishing his sketch and making the lines more defined, he randomly brings out colored pencils from his tuxedo.

Oh, great heavens.

You thought this man was just going to do a quick sketch, but he ended up wanting to complete his artwork instead.

You knew that whenever this artist colors, he makes sure it's done well.

"Calvin..." You whimpered once you noticed that your hands are beginning to get sweaty. The blows of the wind stopped for seconds.

Your pleads for help are ignored by the artist who remains working on the artwork.

"I think I'm gonna fall...!" You shriek as you look below on the busy streets of New York.