When Potter meets Jeremiah

Secluded woods?

"Oh please, do you have nothing better to do than stare?" I announce to the crowd who reluctantly continued their individual activities. My aggravated outburst earned a glare from my younger other half.

"Where the hell have you been?" I growl, my upset mood was more directed to the crowd that had pissed me off, rather than to my sister.

"The circus." She replies as she knew she was treading on dangerous water.

"The circus, yeah no dip Sherlock, why did you leave me alone. I ended up having to call-" I cut myself off before I could let his name slip past my lips.

"Call who Potter tot? Would be the mystery boy." She pried at my almost slip up.

"Just drop it. Now spill where were you?"

"Where are you going?" Alaska's voice caught my attention as I reached my door.  She had just spilled her guts about the mysterious circus boy she had met tonight. I kind of wanted to gloat about how I kept a secret longer than her, but I had somewhere to be.

"To bed, I'm tired." I say in a dull tone trying to sound lethargic.

"Okay well sleep well." Her words come out in a sigh.

Once I had securely locked my door I crawled out the window and then down the fire escape until I reached the ground.

I started the engine of my small sports car and then began my adventure down the road. I was trapped in my over working mind until my GPS blurted I had arrived.

"What the fuck?" I mumble under my breath letting each word be spaced out, as I was in front of a cement box that was surrounded by secluded woods.

"I must have got the address wrong." I whisper looking up from my lap once again being sure there were no creeps.  To my surprise I see Xander standing in the doorway waving, coaxing me to get out of my car and join him inside the box

•*•*•*
"You paint?" I ask running my fingers through the nice brushes. Each bristled felt so fine across my small fingers.

"Occasionally, do you?" He questions as he fumbled around behind a polished metal desk.

"It's my job." I laughed with a small snort at the end, this grabbed his attention as he stopped looking for whatever it was he was looking for.

"Do you do pottery too?" He asked cracking a smile but I wasn't amused.

"I hate it." My mood instantly changed.

"Oh I just assumed since-"

"Since my names Potter? Yeah I get it a lot." I say my tone coming out more toxic than intended. I watched as his face crumbled hitting my soft spot.

"No, no, no I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that." I say as I rush over engulfing him in a tight embrace. I didn't know if this helped him, but I knew a tight hug always made me feel better.

"You probably think I'm a bitch now huh? Someone who can't take a joke?" I convey softly.

"Of course not, bad childhood memories." He whispers into my ear.

"Maybe I'll share one day..." I mutter into his shoulder 

"Want to see something?" He asked his tone sounding odd, as he tried changing the subject.

"You show me your dick and I'll kill you." I joke harshly eventually laughing at my own joke, maybe it was to show him it was a joke.

"Oh no, of course not." He says holding my upper arms while leaning back to keep eye contact.

"Follow me." He says taking me by the hand leading me down a long cement hallway. He stopped in front of a door before pressing some random ass numbers.

Once the door was open my mouth dropped as I took in all of the beautiful paintings. Some I knew, others I didn't.  They ranged from famous artist to smaller one but very talented ones.

"Damn I must say you have great taste in fine art." I say walking through the room.

"I like to think I have a fairly decent eye for art. I do hope you truly like them." He says with his hands in his pocket.

"Like them? I love them." I say gawking at his collection.

"Which one is your favorite?" I ask trying to get an idea of what kind of work he prefers. You can tell a lot about a person based on what art they like.

"Oh my favorites are all by an unmarked artist. They are quite marvelous, some of the best work I've seen..." he trails off indicating for me to follow him as he walks down a corridor leading to a larger room where eleven painting were hung on the wall.

My breath hitched in my throat as I recognize the paintings.

"I would die to know the amazing distressed artist who created these lovely pieces. You know to get the story that drew the inspiration for them." He tells me as I had fell into a spell of silence.

Lined on the very top where five from the same line. They each were of a different portrayed girl without a face. Their face was replaced with the scenery behind them. Four of the paintings in the middle where of different parts of the body.

The first was a hand, the second was a neck and collarbone, third was a back, and fourth being a person slouched crying.

The last two were the ones that stuck out the most. The first was abstract with brown eyes. And the second was two faces making one, the left side was a man the right a young girl.

"Did you purchase these from someone of the name Jeremiah?" I asked slowly turning my head to meet his green eyes.

"How did you know?" His words were barley a whisper. His face looked as if he'd seen a ghost, as did I.

"I'm the artist."

"And I'm Jeremiah."

I gave him a confused look. I could tell he didn't know what to do. I was beyond confused, was his name Jeremiah or Xander.

"Maybe one day I'll share..." he whispered. My lips were parted but nothing came out.

"You can call me Jeremiah."