Page 306 of Vicious Saint
But it’s the buzzing of an overhead light that does me in. “Can I take this damn blindfold off yet?! I’m dying over here.”
The same scraping of metal comes from behind me, ten steps before Saint’s lips are at my ear. “In three…” His fingers slide up my arms. “Two.” The sides of my face. “One.”
And the blindfold’s pulled off.
It takes a few blinks for my eyes to adjust, but when they do I’m gasping with astonishment.
“Saint…” I breathe, as I take in the sight before me.
A two level space large enough to fit at least ten cars, with walls accented between brick, cement, and the checkered glass windows giving life to several potted Zinnias.
The entirety of the rest being filled with every artist’s dream team.
Easels of all sizes. Canvases. Wooden tables. Day lamps.
Shelves lined with drawing pads, pencils, paint, and brushes.
There’s even a floor to ceiling bookshelf loaded with comics, and a sliding ladder in front of it.
My mouth falls open, and my heart squeezes like a fist when I spot the two aprons laying across one of the tables.
Avengers and New York Giants.
“Whaddya think?” Saint asks, watching me as I gawk at the beautiful studio.
It takes me a while to answer, mostly because I’m actively trying not to cry. “It’s absolutely…beautiful.”
“Thought you’d like a place of your own, you know? Outside of school and the mansion.”
“I don’t know what to say…” I swallow down the burn of happy tears. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
He curls his hand in mine, then tilts his head. “C’mon, let me show you around.”
I follow Saint as he leads me through the studio, finding not a nook or cranny left without purpose. The corners closest to the windows, although obvious because there’re light-up signs, he explains are for drawing and painting.
Center is for drafting.
So on, and so forth.
“This part I had built in.” He ushers me past two opened barn doors, into a room where a huge U shaped desk faces the window with several laptops on top of it.
Apple, Surface Pro, Dell, even Lenovo.
“I didn’t know which one was best for digital design.” Saint shrugs. “So I just bought ’em all.”
I glance up at him, still riding out the shockwaves he blasted through my heart. “Thank you…so much. This is…just…I can’t even describe how happy I am.”
“Eh, it’s nothing.” Saint kisses my hair. “I’m just glad I didn’t fuck it up.”
If there was ever a time Saint proved to be certifiable, it’s now.
Sliding my hands beneath the hood of Saint’swinterizedLetterman, as he calls it, I tilt my head and stare at his beautiful face.
“This is not nothing, Saint. It means everything to me. You. Mean. Everything to me.”
His lips spread into a wolfish grin. “But you haven’t even seen the best part yet.”
For the hundredth time since I met this boy, I’m being dragged by him, straight to a narrow set of stairs leading to a loft.
