A TWIST OF FATE || Rewriting

Ch. 38 || The Art Room

Beautifully designed sconces on the walls along with some arts. The room is perfectly clean and put together as if the World's best professionals worked their magic here. Maybe they actually did.

There is are floor to ceiling windows behind the curtains. I slid them aside to see the view that makes my jaw drop. His room faces the back of the Maxion where there are big mountains, full of life and greenery. Between the mountains, I can see the sea links in the distance.

I force my body to walk forward, across the sitting area to the walk-in closet. Unlike his room in the villa, here his closet is filled with branded designer clothes - mostly blazers, pants and shirts all in black and dark colours. Does this man ever wear anything other than black and white?

There are many drawers but I don't open them, instead I move to my side of the closet where every single thing is placed perfectly. I chose the clothes I wanted for the event and left the room.

When I step out of his room, a door catches my eye. It is all alone at the right side of the hallway in the very corner. No room, no furniture, just a simple door looking lonely. I don't know what compels me but I start walking towards it.

Hesitantly, I pull the handle down and it clicks open. The room wasn't locked, so I guess there's nothing wrong with exploring it. The feel of it made my heart beat faster. Like, my intuition is telling me something.

My heart drops at the sight of several canvases in front of me. The room is completely empty except for the canvases in different shapes and the normal art supplies strewn across the floor. But that isn’t it. On every canvas, there is my face, and Thora's painted on.

I step into the room, studying the beautiful pieces of art. They don’t look amateur in any way. The one who painted it must have god's gift in his hands. The pictures feel like staring into a mirror except, the one looking at me is much more beautiful than I ever could be.

The scent of the paints is fresh in the air. The floor is a complete mess from the paint spilled across. There are two wooden easels stand in the middle, one with my face and other with Thora's.

My fingers gently brush over them, mesmerising the art. If Thora's painting is seen individually, she looks very different from me but if compared with my face, I can see just how similar the faces are. Like, the same face is drawn from a different perspective.

I still can't accept the fact that me and Thora are the same person. Why I don't remember anything?

My phone vibrate in my hand and I see a text from Damien.

Damien.
"You weren't supposed to be there."

My heart flutter and flies outside the windows when I realise Damien painted this. He is the artist of this magnificent art. Devil capturing the beauty of an angel.

I don't see myself as the most beautiful woman in the world but looking at myself from Damien's perspective, I definitely felt like an angel from heaven.

Me.
"I'll never stop hating you no matter what."

I try to remind him—or me—I don’t know. 

I do feel something for him. Something that's beyond my own understanding. When he called me when I was shot and I realised it, my heart felt like it didn't have any life left anymore. When I saw him lying on the hospital bed, I felt like my world had ended and I was ripped off any life essence in me. If he was dying, I wanted to die with him.

But I am unable to shake off the hate and anger in me. Whenever I see his face or even think of him, Thia's injured face flashes back in my mind as a reminder of how Damien had his hands in all this. Reminder of how he is the reason for Thia's accident. And mostly, I remember his plan to kill me. His end goal.

That's why I brush off any emotions of sympathy or affection towards him.

Wrath is more powerful than the feeling of love.