Art Heaux

Stroke Twelve

My apologies for not updating in almost four months. Lack of confidence in my writing and life was doing its life thing. But Art Heaux has officially been completed on my end, so I'll be posting the remaining chapters over the next few days. Thank you so much for your patience and support with this story. It means a lot.

Rainy mornings were her favorite back home. When it was too early for the sun to peek through the clouds, but the pitter patter of the rain against the window was enough to keep her awake. During these hours, her mind was quiet. Calm. She could simply lay there and use the rain as a meditation.

Slowly opening her eyes, she looked at the beautiful man next to her. Lying still on his back with his lips barely parted as even breaths pushed through. Looking at him, you'd never guess the past two weeks were difficult. His face was relaxed and he looked at peace. The steady rise and fall of his chest, accompanied by the beating of his heart was music to her ears.

Peace.

Her heart was finally at peace. She didn't have to worry about the embarrassment or heartache that came with dating Scottie and she lowkey felt bad that Kia even had to deal with him. Being able to breathe and simply exist without that nagging feeling in the back of her head was a relief. A relief she had let go of years ago when Scottie ruined any hope of finding a true love. Olivia was a hopeless romantic at heart. When she loved, she loved hard and fell even harder.

Grabbing her sketch pad and book light, she began to draw the outline of Spencer's silhouette. Deep into her own world, she didn't notice Spencer stirring in his sleep. "Knew I heard that damn pencil," he muttered with the goofiest grin plastered on his face.

"I'm always waking you up, I'm sorry," Olivia apologized, throwing her sketchpad to the side and shifting her attention to boyfriend. "You just looked so peaceful, I couldn't help myself."

Spencer glanced at the pad and smiled at the start of her portrait, "This supposed to be me," he chuckled.

"Yeah," Olivia replied, nudging him on his back as she threw her leg over his waist. "How'd I do?"

"Better than what I'd do," he added, allowing Olivia to straddle his lap as she placed the drawing pad and pencil in his hands.

"Let's see if you remember what I taught you," the artist said, sitting back and waiting on the masterpiece her boyfriend would create. After several minutes, Spencer turned the pad around to reveal a stick figure with wild hair. "Now, I know I don't look like that!"

Spencer's boisterous laughter rung out and filled the room. "You're still beautiful either way. Besides, I don't mind taking credit for the messy hair," he continued to poke at her while ruffling her tangled curls.

"Yeah, whatever," Olivia replied, pulling her hair into a puff at the top of her head. She would regret doing that later on. "But I need to get me a silk pillowcase or bonnet to keep over here. I'm going to be bald if I keep this up," she pointed to the ponytail beginning to lean to the side on top of her head.

"I still love...you," Spencer began before he realized what he was saying out loud and couldn't stop himself. How natural it felt leaving his lips shocked him and clearly shocked the person on the receiving end of it. Olivia's eyes widened for a moment before her lips curled into a shy grin. "What," he reacted as if he didn't just confess deeper feelings.

Before Olivia could answer, Spencer's phone rang from the bedside table. Damita was up bright and early to play the Olivia Pope in Spencer's current turmoil. The reminder made his smile drop as he reached over to grab his phone. "Good morning, D," Spencer grunted, tapping Olivia's thigh so that he could get up.