Page 28 of Johann

He started on a new paper, a new face. A long, straight nose. Pretty eyes with so many different colors, none of which Jay could capture with just a pencil, but the kindness in them he could. The way that stern brow turned soft just for Jay. The little crinkles at the corners of those eyes when they were smiling at him, telling him he was good and perfect and gorgeous.

Jay let the motions of his pencil soothe him.

He was growing. He was changing. Hewas.

He could be more than what his maker had made of him.

Seconds or minutes or hours later—he couldn’t be sure, really, only knew that his drawing was finished and he’d since been staring at the wall—Jay’s phone dinged with a text.

They grow impatient.

Jay considered throwing his phone against the wall like he had with Vee’s ruined portrait, how satisfying the crunch of it would be. But then how would Alexei get a hold of him? They were going to make syrniki tomorrow. Jay needed to be available.

So he kept his phone intact, sending a reply instead.

I’m learning how to make pancakes.

Then he let himself drift off, back into his own head. Maybe when he came to, it would be morning, and he’d be that much closer to his cooking lesson.

Johann closed his eyes and let the sun beat down on his face, his feet resting up on the fence, his back firmly planted in the grass. Most likely any minute now, his uncle would call him in to help with the horses, but for now he could take a minute to enjoy the warmth of the spring day.

“My, my. Don’t you look comfortable.”

Johann peeled one eye open, startling when he realized there was a woman looking down at him, her face mostly hidden by a large sun hat.

“Oh!” Johann scrambled up, brushing his breeches and doing his best not to stumble as the blood rushed back down from his head. “Can I help you, Madam?”

“I’m not quite sure yet.”

Johann couldn’t see her eyes, but he could tell the woman was looking him over slowly by the way her hatted head tilted. She had three inches on him at least, and she was really very elegant. Much too elegant for the countryside, and her German had a slight accent to it Johann couldn’t quite place. Perhaps she wasn’t native to Austria.

“You’re very young, I think” was the woman’s final verdict after her perusal. “How old exactly?”

Johann cleared his throat. “I’ve just turned nineteen.”

She gave a thoughtful hum. “And you still reside with your parents?”

“My aunt and uncle. My parents have passed.”

“No wife of your own yet?”

Johann shook his head, unable to find words, too embarrassed that she’d even asked.

She laughed softly then. And it wasn’t necessarily a mean sound, but it wasn’t necessarily a nice one either. “What do you do all day, then, other than sitting upside down in the dirt?”

Johann resisted the urge to scratch at his neck, running a hand along the fence instead. “I help around the farm. My aunt and uncle don’t have children of their own.”

The woman’s head tilted. “You’re good at following instruction?”

“Yes, Madam.”

She was silent then, studying him some more. It was starting to make Johann uneasy, the way she looked at him. The way he couldn’t quite see her face. “You have a very fine bone structure, under all that dirt,” she mused. “Not displeasing at all.”

“Thank you, Madam.” Johann very much wanted to go home now. He wanted the firm comfort of his uncle’s hand on his shoulder, the warm reassurance of his aunt’s smile at the supper table.

“And you’re very polite.”

His response was automatic. “Thank you, Madam.”

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