Page 120 of Destined Dawn
I turn the book around and flip over the next few pages. That isn’t the only drawing of me. There are others. Lots of others. My face full on, tilted to the side, looking down, looking up, a sketch of my entire profile, one of my hands. There’s even one of me crouched down stroking Pip’s head.
The others have already moved onto another topic – the merits of weight training. But when I peer Tristan’s way, I find he isn’t listening, he’s watching me. I guess he’s always been watching me.
Maybe any normal girl would find that damn creepy or disturbing. Not me, I find it … I find it hot. He wasn’t lying. He told me he’s been obsessed with me since the day we met and it seems that was the truth.
“I’m keeping this one,” I tell him, pointing to the one of me and Pip, as the others chatter around us.
“It’s all yours, Piglet,” he says. “You can have all of them if you want.”
I flick back to the sketch he did of himself and the one of Spencer and decide yes, I will be keeping all of it. I close the book and holding it to my chest, abandon my untouched noodles and go to sit next to him on the floor, our backs resting against the wall. Tristan’s penthouse apartment may be big but it has a serious lack of home comforts – like chairs for instance.
“When all of this is over,” I say, “do you think you could sketch Azlan, Stone and Renzo too?”
“I’m pretty shit at it,” he mumbles, “but if you–”
I laugh. “Are you actually being modest for once, Tristan Kennedy?”
“My dad didn’t like me wasting my time with things like drawing,” he says, hooking his arm around my shoulder and offering me the spliff.
I shake my head and he passes it on to Spencer.
“It isn’t a waste of time,” I tell him. “Creating things so beautiful never could be.”
“That’s lucky,” he says grinning, “because I intend to spend a lot of time drawing you.”
“You’re not eating,” Azlan says, from the other side of the room, where he’s sunk into the only other available seating option – a beanbag, his knees almost hitting his chin.
“I’m not hungry,” I admit.
“You should still eat.”
I take the fork from Tristan’s bowl, swivel noodles around the prongs and shove the lot into my mouth. “Satisfied?” I ask with a full mouthful.
“No,” Azlan says, giving me one of his fierce looks. Onethat means I’ll be doing exactly as he commands and eating all my noodles. When it comes to Azlan, I have a hard time being a brat.
“Don’t they usually give you a really good meal for your final one?” Renzo says, poking the noodles with his fork, Pip watching intently, practically drooling on his lap.
“It’s ramen noodles,” Stone says. “What’s not to like?”
“It’s too spicy,” he moans and I smile to myself. Ears, spice, me. I’m beginning to gather a list of all the assassin’s weak spots. “Do you want some, little man?”
“Do not feed Pip spice!” I say, leaping to my feet.
“Why not? Will he turn into a demon?” Stone says, eyeing my pig.
“No, but he will vomit straight for several hours.”
“Remind me why you own a pet pig again?”
I don’t answer that question. It’s something I haven’t been honest about. I’m still too scared to tell them in case they make me give Pip up.
I beckon Pip to follow me and he shuffles off Renzo’s lap and follows me through the penthouse to the kitchenette area. I spend the next few minutes nosing through Tristan’s cupboards, disappointed to find, just like Azlan’s, a serious lack of chocolates and candy. I do find some cereal bars through and I unwrap them and offer them up to Pip.
“Here,” I tell him. “Eat these and do not go snuffling after noodle leftovers. Do you hear me?” He snorts as if that would never in a million years occur to him when we both know he’s been plotting it. “Pip,” he halts his demolition of the bars to look up at me, “erm, would you mind, you know, staying in here for a bit?” My pig glares at me with obvious disapproval. “Don’t look at me that way. These might be our last moments together. And they’re my fated mates. And,you know, hot.” Pip squeaks, clearly disagreeing with that last statement. “Sorry, Pipsqueak, but they are.”
Pip huffs and turns his attention back on the cereal bars. He may not be happy about it, but he’s going to give us our space and our privacy.
I look back out to the living area and take a deep inhale. My belly is full of butterflies, my nerves ringing with anticipation.
