It was rather beautiful,

the way he put her insecurities to sleep.

The way he dove into her eyes,

and starved all the fears,

and tasted all the dreams she kept,

coiled beneath her bones.

C.P.

***

I lose count of the hours.

It's late and I'm working by lamplight.

The hour is well past midnight before I hear the door open. I don't turn around and look. I can already tell by the smell it's Atlas.

I feel his heat close to my back as he watches me work.

Turning around, I see his eyes wide and in awe of the colors I've displayed for him to see.

"Lexie...," he looks at me then, his eyes still wide and mouth slightly hanging.

"Do you like it?"

"I...don't have words at the moment."

I feel a giddy sensation run through me.

If Atlas wasn't there, I probably would have twirled around and done some small silly dance to show off my excitement.

"This is the sunrise," I point to the rising sun as it filters over the top of trees and mountains.

"This is the waterfall," I point to the torrent of blue, as it cascades down, leading to a garden.

"This is the garden," my fingers dance across the path, leading into the foliage of roses and vines as they dance to a green clearing.

"And this is the field."

Atlas's eyes meet mine.

"You painted our date."

I hold up the photos, small splatters of paint on some of them, "I painted our date."

He laughs then. A laugh that has me joining in with him as he unexpectedly grabs me and raises me into the air.

"Ah!" I shriek and laugh with him as he twirls me around, softly and slowly lowering me down to meet his lips.

"I love it."

I smile into his lips.

My smile disappears though as I look at his neck.

He frowns at me, his smile fading also as he takes in my change, "What?"

"I...," I look away from him as I whisper, "I got paint on your neck."

He places me upon the ground as he tries to look at the stains I've caused to his beautiful skin.

"I'm sorry Atlas. If I wash it right now it won't show that much and-,"

"It's fine."

I pause at his words.

"What do you mean fine? There's paint on you and,-"

"Lexie," the smile returns to his lips as he cups my face in his hands, "I said it's fine."

I shake my head slowly, "You don't understand Atlas, you're the Alpha, you can't have that on you or the pack,-"

He stops my words with his lips, "I said it's fine."

I feel tears threatening to form and spill- threatening to ruin our happy moment.

It's not fine.

Can't he see.

The way people watch my hands.

The way they judge.

The way they are ashamed and embarrassed. The thought, the very idea of Atlas going through something like that has me taking shallow, uneven breaths.

Without warning, and in one fluid motion, he has his hands raised, his shirt off to reveal the whole glory of his skin.

I quickly cover my eyes, childish in my actions.

"Really Lexie," Atlas sighs in disapproval as he grabs my hands and yanks them away.

I look anywhere but at his solid chest.

"Atlas what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to show you something Lexie," I look at his face as he gently smiles down at me.

"What?"

"I'm showing you that it's fine."

Without warning he reaches across from me, dipping his finger into the blue and smearing it across his chest.

"No Atlas," I try to push his hand down but he continues in his path.

"Why are you doing this?"

Tears leak down as I take in the smear now upon his body. The ruin upon his skin.

"Lexie, Lexie Lexie," he smiles as he says my name, "Paint me."

"You don't like me painting you."

He grabs my hand, growling now his command, "Paint me."

I shake my head in protest, "I don't want to ruin your skin."

"You think this ruins it?"

He opens my hands, revealing the stains I can never get off. Will never get off.

"You think you are ruined?"

I know I am. I am. He doesn't know. He doesn't know the truth. I should tell him. Should tell him now, while I still have the chance.

But he interrupts my thoughts with his light kisses upon my palms, looking up and saying, "I think you are a mess. A glorious mess that is all mine."

Tears are slowly making their way down my face now for a different reason.

A new reason.

"Lexie," his words are soft as he takes a step closer, "Paint me."

Hesitantly, with shaking hands, I reach behind me and dip my fingers in the black paint.

He gasps, a shaking breath leaving him as my fingers make contact with his stomach.

His eyes never leave me as slowly I become consumed within my work.

And I paint him.

All of him.

Galaxy's upon his chest.

Stars upon his back.

The moon across his ribs.

And darkness along his arms.

All things that I think suit him.

All things that I think are beautiful and go along with this breathtaking male.

Slowly he takes my hand, stopping in it's work.

Without question he raises the tip of my shirt, dragging it up and up until I too am standing before him.

Bare.

No paintings and splattered stains to hide me.

His eyes swirl and become dark as he takes me in.

And then he presses against me.

Letting galaxies collide as his stars become mine.

His moon becomes mine.

His darkness becomes mine.

I don't even realize we are falling until I hit the soft folds of the bed.

Don't realize I am becoming consumed by his darkness until I feel his mouth everywhere upon me.

Paint is everywhere- on the sheets, in our hair, upon our arms and stomach, back and neck.

But we never notice.

Never notice- as I cling to him, wrapping my legs around him, sliding against him as the wet paint becomes solid and one with our skin.

*heavy breathing* YES.