Midnight Muse

“I love you too, Quinn.”

My jaw falls slack but I don’t stew in my surprise for long because his mouth slants back over mine and we’re rolling, touching everywhere, the both of us losing ourselves in each other.

“You love me?” I question, breathing heavily when we finally manage to pull apart.

I feel so full, so excited and love-drunk and dizzy. I kiss Knox again because I can’t help myself. He loves me.

“I love you so fucking much, Princess. More than I’ve ever loved anything.”

“Even more than your motorcycle?” I tease, and he rolls his eyes at me, tickling my sides.

I squeal, writhing underneath him. The movement makes his cock brush my entrance and we’re both dissolving into moans, the amusement melting into a heavy arousal that screams loudly in the dark.

“Even more than my motorcycle,” Knox answers, his eyes heated with desire. He kisses my cheek. “Even more than tattooing.” He works his way across my collar bones to the other side of my face and I arch up into him to reach his soft lips. Knox shifts so our mouths are millimeters apart, so I can taste his next words as he says them. “Even more than drawing.”

CHAPTER 32

QUINN

I’ve forgotten how good this feels. How freeing it is to draw and not care about anything except putting down what I want, dirtying the crisp, white paper with thick, heavy lines, experimenting with smudging the chalk however I feel like smudging it.

I feel like I’m young again, with not a care in the world. The music from my headphones blasts in my ears and I’m singing loudly, uncaring that my boyfriend is probably sitting on the other side of the wall wondering how crazy I am.

Whatever. He’s stuck with me now.

After another round of slow, sensual fucking, Knox and I reveling in our love for one another, I decided to spend the day embracing this newfound creativity, and have been working on my final project for drawing class all day.

It’s been going incredibly well. I’ve never been so focused, so excited for the final result. Not even the looming deadline can shake me from this feeling.

Sitting back with a happy sigh, I admire what I have so far. Only a few more finishing touches until I’m done, and I can’t wait. I’m thrilled with how it’s been going, letting my hands do the work while keeping my mind from straying.

For my final Drawing 201 project, I chose to morph myself with a swan. Not only for the fact that it had been an ode to my younger self, but also because of their representation of the awakening of power and self-esteem. I’ve learned so much this semester about myself, and in the beginning, I was unsure of where I fit in in the creative world, but after learning the stories of so many around me, Knox’s included, it has made me realize that I need to create art that I love and that I’m proud of, and not let others dictate my decisions.

I also chose to morph myself into the swan because of their grace. Grace in dealing with others—Knox’s gnarly attitude, Slate’s cheekiness, Ace’s cockiness, Reid’s snark, and Rory’s hidden relationship. I’ve learned a lot of patience and made some amazing friends this semester.

I’ve come such a long way since then, especially now that I’m deeply in love with the neighbor that had been a thorn in my side for all these months. Knox is as sweet as ever, though he still distracts me from my work these days, it’s no longer with rowdy music.

Speaking of, the song cuts out as my phone rings and I decide that now is as good as any time for a break. My mom’s contact picture flashes and I smile. It’s been a week since I’ve last talked to her. I’ve been so busy with studying for finals and projects that I haven’t had a chance to call.

Dusting my charcoal laden hands on my pants, I can’t help but think of how Knox had done the same thing when I climbed into his lap one night while he was working on his own drawings.

I shiver as I remember the hungry look in his eyes at the charcoal fingerprints he scattered around my body.

“Hey, mom,” I answer, shoving that thought far, far away from my mind.

“Hi, Quinnie,” she greets cheerily, and the sound of her voice makes me ache.

Only one more week until I’m home for winter break and I couldn’t be more excited. Rory and I booked our flights long ago, and as sad as I am to be apart from Knox, I’m excited to see Sam and my parents and the rest of our family for the holidays.

Knox isn’t going home. Instead, he’s going to Colorado with Ace to spend the holidays with him and his family. It’s something they’ve done the past few years, even before Knox’s father found out about his secret art school status. He and his father haven’t seen eye-to-eye in a long time, and when I offered my sympathy, he only brushed it off, saying that I shouldn’t feel sorry for him because he’s more than happy with the decisions he’s made.

“How are you doing? How are your classes?” Mom asks, always straight to the point, always wondering about my future in art.

It’s something that I know I have to talk to her about, these feelings that I’ve been harboring inside of me since I gave up drawing for myself. It might be a hard conversation, but it’s one that I know will have me feeling lighter in the end.

“They’re good,” I answer, trying to appease her. I wince, already falling back into old habits. “Actually, I’m glad you called, because I wanted to talk about that.”

“Oh no,” she gasps, already thinking the worst. “You’re passing all of your classes, right Sweetie?”