A Psychopath For a Boss

Chapter 43 Victorian Flowers

This chapter will be longer than I usually do. Hopefully it's not tedious! Please let me know any mistakes.

James's POV

Travis closed his eyes and breathed steadily, painting slowly while I eyed him. I loved to watch him, seeing him occasionally sway over to the paints and add to the platte in his hand.

So, this was my sweetheart's hobby. I was happy to see him bolt out the world and take his precious time. He might be here for my eye-candy, but his methods drew my interest.

Slow, steady strokes, blotting out the white of the canvas. Travis closed his eyes and seemed to let his hand work the board. I could imagine his signature on a renaissance painting, wavy and small, 'T. Wane,' or something different, if I felt ambitious.

He pushed back his hair a few times as he bent over, trying to maintain his hair while getting the bottom of the board. He frowned as a blotch of paint got into his locks, and he looked to me. I was admiring his face while he seemed expectant. Regardless, it took me a hot second to catch on.

"Oh, did my Picasso want a hair tie?" My mouth broke into a wide grin. He did not seem pleased, perhaps because I was admiring that scowl rather than his ass. Either way, I got the message and he made a show of pulling back all his hair to one side before crossing his arms. Seeing his pretty ears hold back the bundle of his brown hair made me want to get them pierced.

"Now, please?" Travis shooed me with a little demanding 'scoot' motion.

"One moment, I'll have to go find one." I rose from my seat and headed out of the room. There was no doubt that he would stay, but I wondered if he would keep painting as I hurried to find a hair tie.

I was walking downstairs when the thought of him getting up to trouble crossed my mind. Part of me worried he would be taking out any of the paint scrapers and try to use them like knives. But then again, I was confident he would never try. Sure, his suicide threats were slightly common, but I doubted he would try something on me.

My walking picked up to a jog and I grabbed a hair tie. The specific one belonged to that secretary, the lady I had rolled around with before, and was a brown little band I toyed with. I checked my phone to check on my pretty artist, and saw him focusing intently on his work.

He was still painting when I got back to the room. The top of the canvas now detailed two soft blue flowers, on a background of glossy brown with the faintest shimmer of red. Travis stopped as I walked up, tensing as if I might touch him. That wasn't what I intended, yet.

"So, what are you going to paint, Travis?" I ask him. The confusion was apparent in his face as he noticed my lack of touching.

"I... am painting a vase." Travis says. Nothing more comes from his mouth and I can tell he has more on his mind.

"One from memory?" I ask, before playfully adding, "I thought you were going to paint me naked men."

"I can paint you a naked man on the vase." Travis rolled his eyes. I proudly felt that I coaxed out a little more with him when he continued to talk, "The flowers are hydrangeas. There were a lot in my mom's garden growing up."

I remembered the witch that raised my gorgeous lover and resisted making a face. "They must be from a good memory to be remembered that well?"

"Not really." Travis said sourly, before going quiet and starting another blue bud.