Sinner's Paradise

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2 - One Wish

When I turn my head, Sin is gone, but I feel my whole head combust with images of the distorted kind. The kind you instantly want to avoid, because your whole sense of reality is broken, which in turn breaks off a part of you.

Yet, even so, in moments that feel like an eternity, everything falls back into place.

The puzzle is put back together, but flipped upside down to reveal a new image.

I am no longer on a lonely sand dune, painting.

I am standing on stone floors, blue dress still around my ankles and my hands free of artist’s instruments.

I am standing in a living area that is unseen to all but Sin.

Sin, the Lord of Sinner’s Paradise.

I am standing in his room, looking at the huge semi circular arch way, open and letting in the warm still air and showing the endless starry night sky. On the inside of the archway, is a dungeon themed luxury penthouse style apartment.

A huge red couch faces a fireplace bigger than most people’s kitchen.

The lick of flames light up the whole dark theme of the room. The bed at one end is open, with a simple grey blanket and white... white fluffy pillows.

My eyes focus on these pillows, so similar to an image of peace I have stored away in the back of my head.

Clouds of white fluff, carpet so soft it’s like walking on air or water. Something and somewhere I was safe and unharmed whenever I thought of such an image.

Yet this room was hardly a safe area.

Just being here was asking for pain.

I look around until I spot Sin right behind me, a mere few feet separating us.

His eyes are so haunting and sure of himself as I step back and face him properly with my hands clasped behind my back.

Sin’s face was something any artist would love to draw, paint, sculpt or capture.

And his silver armour, small plated, with leather stringing it together, covering a body honed for battling to the death... to other’s death.

He was too perfect, with angles of precision and a balance that could only be that of an an-

“Not an angel,” Sin winks while hardly making another facial expression, “Not anymore.”

“I would like to paint you,” I whisper, “Or is that too bold of me to ask?”

“I was simply waiting for you to figure that out,” he answers, his eyes sparkling with humour, “I was... however... waiting for a different response, a common one. Haven’t you heard the stories?”

“Oh...” I trail off as I knew exactly what stories they were. But I had never believed them.

“I can grant you, whatever you like... anything... what do you think most women ask for once they’ve found their way into my city, and found my swift attention?” he asks like I’m in a job interview and I purse my lips as I look him over.

“I could guess... at the base of their desire... they’d want a night they’d never forget, and then they’d regret their poor choice in words,” I answer as truthfully as possible, which has Sin smiling.

“Interesting. There is no fear in you... just an artist’s hand. You can paint me, Eva. But I will keep your finished work,” Sin walks past me and with every step, his armour vanishes in a few whiffs of smokey magic. I avert my eyes as more and more of his body is exposed.

I look to my feet and furrow my eyebrows.

Of course, I had to find my way here, in a room with a naked Sin.

I should not have been thinking about him so deeply, he must have felt it.

I wait until I hear the bend of a couch’s material being sat upon and then I look up.

The back of the couch covers his body, and now all I can see is the sculpted shoulder, the muscular neck and the turn and tilt of his head as he gazes at a painting on one of his walls.

When I glance at it, it’s of a beautiful goddess, one with wings.

“Get to work,” Sin speaks as soon as my eyes take in the goddess.

Then, I blink, and before me is an aisle, a table of paints, a fresh canvas, and a stool.

I quickly walk forward and take my seat, hoping when I grab the paint brush that looked like my own and dipped it into the paint... that also looked like my own... that I would blink again and wake up on the sand dune.

But I don’t.

I just look up and see Sin, gazing at the painting of the goddess, staying still for the portrait.

So, I paint the fire, the red and gold lined couch, his shoulder, his neck, his black hair, his steel blue eyes, his perfect nose and his gaze... pointed to the goddess with wings. I paint a rough version of her too, hoping Sin won’t mind the extra detail.

With silence, I do my work and he does his by reclining on the couch.

I am a fast painter and I am done in two hours.

“If you’re done,” Sin murmurs from the couch and I look up to see his shocking eyes staring at me for the first time in the two hours that have passed far too quickly, “Leave.”

For some reason I can hear the slight suggestion underneath his simple statement.

I could stay, if I dared to... but then he’d take something from me.

Or I could leave... before it was too late.

“Yes,” I look for the door, I stand up and leave everything where it is, even with my hands covered in paint and my dress splotched in rainbow colours.

I walk fast, while an all knowing gaze burns into my back as I reach the door and it opens on it’s own creepy hinges.

I then walk down a nicely lit corridor, in a place that seemed like it would start to wind into a maze like structure... I just hoped I could get out, before a Lord or Lady decided to eat me for supper.

Or perhaps I’d fall into a pit of death.

Or maybe I’d accidentally walk into a room of demons.

My thoughts get progressively darker as Sin... he... he chuckles through my mind.

It disturbs me, but I get the feeling he is laughing at my thoughts.

I had to stop thinking of him.

Or else, if I kept going on that path, I knew, there would be a point I would never stop thinking about Sin.

Oh, Sin.

But I had to get out of his castle first.

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