Page 28 of Samuel
He parked outside a small art shop tucked between two larger buildings, its sign barely visible from the road.
As we stepped out, I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle.
I had the strange sensation that eyes were on us, watching every step we took.
Samuel opened the door to the shop and gestured for me to go in first. I hesitated, then stepped inside.
The smell of paper, paint, and fresh canvas hit me all at once, familiar and comforting.
I wandered through the aisles, marveling at the supplies, the shelves stacked with sketchbooks, pencils, and charcoals.
For a moment, I forgot the strange town, forgot the wary looks from the locals.
I reached for a sketchbook, feeling the weight of it in my hand.
“How much should I…” I started, feeling a bit embarrassed as I remembered I didn’t have any money.
“Get whatever you want,” Samuel said, cutting me off. He met my eyes, his tone serious. “Consider it my treat.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, still not entirely sure what to make of his generosity.
I half-expected him to leave me to my shopping, but he stayed close, watching with a curious expression.
There was no judgment in his gaze, just genuine interest.
I felt myself relax, just a little, and reached for a set of pencils. I didn’t mind his presence, I realized.
The idea was strange, almost surreal.
“I used to draw a lot when I was younger,” I said, speaking more to myself than him. “But being a hunter…well, it’s not exactly something I had time for.”
He nodded, seeming to understand.
“When did you start?” he asked, his voice soft, as if he didn’t want to break the moment.
I let out a small laugh. “My cousin Finn was the first person I showed my sketches to. He was always bugging me to draw him something new, something more elaborate.”
“Finn?” Samuel’s voice held a note of curiosity, and I realized I’d never mentioned him before.
“He’s the only one I’m close to,” I said. “He’s the one who…kept me going through all of it. I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for him.”
Samuel stayed quiet for a moment, and I could feel the weight of his gaze.
“You trust him?” he asked finally.
“With my life.” The words slipped out before I’d really thought about them, but they were true.
Samuel nodded, a spark of approval in his eyes.
“Maybe when all this is over, you can find him again. Let him know you’re alive. Tell him to keep your secret,” Samuel said.
The idea was enough to send a pang through my chest. After all this was over.
I hadn’t even let myself think about the future, but here Samuel was, speaking about it as if it were inevitable.
He seemed so sure, so grounded in a way I could hardly understand.
As he paid for my supplies, I found myself sneaking glances at him, wondering how he could be so confident.
