When Solace was unpacking at her new apartment in late August, she had a box solely for her art. Her portfolio, paint, brushes, and graphite pencils were just a few things in the box she labeled as 'junk.'

She had it tucked away in her closet with no intentions of doing art. It sounded dramatic; she knew that. It was just exhausting having to see her work or create new pieces without the back of her mind telling her she was a coward. They were tokens of what ifs and possibilities. They were the words of her parents and teachers telling her she would be wasting her time with art. Solace wanted nothing to do with it anymore.

So, it stung a little – a lot, actually – when she pulled out her supplies to begin the replica. She had to dig through some fallen clothes and boxes with high school material she had hoarded for no reason. Solace had wiped off the dust bunnies, and it took her longer than expected to pull everything out when she wistfully ran a hand over all her work. She purposefully kept her portfolio shut. There was no time to go down that road.

She had forced Sage to go out and buy the correct 20 x 24 inches canvas along with some oil paint colors she didn't have. While he was out shopping, Solace made the most of her time completing notes and assignments since she needed all the hours to begin the Servus Autem Fortuna. It was difficult to study when Sage was only a few feet away, flipping through Netflix on the television and munching on her snacks. Occasionally he would get bored enough to sit beside her on the dining table and point out the mistakes in her English paper.

Sage had a habit of poking his nose into where it didn't belong. Like right now.

"Are you sure that's the right shade?" he asked, squinting his eyes, and shoving his face too close to the canvas.

Solace pushed his face away, frustratingly placing her brush on the plastic tarp they sat on between the kitchen and living room. "Did I ever come to your basketball games and tell you what you should do?"

"Yes. Multiple times."

"Oh, yeah," she laughed, picking up the brush and following her sketch she finished up a while ago. Several pictures of the original sat near the canvas to guide her. Basketball was a major sport in their high school and her friends would drag her along to some of the games. She enjoyed laughing at the players who fell on their faces. "You did have shoddy footwork."

Sage narrowed his gaze. "You're talking to the captain of the basketball and soccer team."

"Ex-captain," she pointed out without thinking.

His shoulders sulked, and his face went blank. "Right," he said, his voice sharp.

Solace kept her eyes fixated on the drawing, outlining the fountain. It was like walking on eggshells with him. Something she never had to do around him before. She wasn't the type of person you could go for hugs or sad stories. She didn't know how to comfort people. Weirdly enough, smiling in awkward and serious situations was her thing. This one time her high school friend was her telling about her grandpa's death, and Solace had to fight every fiber in her being to not smile. Now, you may call her a psychopath, but that was the farthest thing from it. She felt bad for her friend, even grief. She just didn't know how to express it.

Good thing I'm not going into healthcare.

"You know what's weird?" Sage wondered as he rested his back against the island of the kitchen.

"No, and I don't care, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me, anyway."

"I didn't even know you applied to Harvard until you got the scholarship. I thought you were going to that one art school," he faltered, his face contorted in deep thought as he tried to recall the name. "Rhode Island School of Design, right?"

Solace halted her painting momentarily and stared past the small easel to look at him. "You remember?" She would spend hours surfing their website, dreaming about doing art in the acclaimed university. She had it all planned to get her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Painting and then move onto her Masters. It would give her the chance to connect with brilliant artists and attend events with inspiring work.

"How could I forget?" he scoffed, twirling a brush in his fingers. "You would never shut up about it."

She blended out the hues of blue and shrugged with one shoulder. "Doesn't matter anymore. I didn't apply."

"Why?" Sage asked curiously. "And don't say it's because Political Sciences is your calling or some bullshit like that. It's boring, and this is coming from a person who actually enjoys math."

Her nose wrinkled at the mention of math. "It's practical. Do you understand how difficult it is to make it in the art world?" she explained, trying to get him to understand that she had a good reason for not following her dreams. "Besides, everyone told me I shouldn't throw away my intelligence by applying to art school. Something about being too smart for wasting my time with painting."

"And you're going to listen to them?"

"It was also my decision, too, Sage," she sighed tiredly. She didn't want to talk about this anymore. She didn't like how heavy it made her feel.

"For being 'smart,' you sure are an idiot," he said in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Can we move on to a different topic?"

"I'm just saying. I would never compliment you for free, but –"

Solace slammed her brush on the tarp, cobalt blue splattering onto her old sweatpants. "I am not going to take advice about my future from a guy who threw his away," she said coldly. She bit her lip at the harsh words that left her mouth and slowly glanced at Sage, who sank into his hoodie and stared down into his lap. "Shit, that was insensitive of me. I'm sorry."

Sage shook his head, the corners of his lips turning into a small smile. "No, don't apologize," he assured. "I want you to act like how you usually would around me. I want you to be rude. I need some normalcy."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you have a degrading kink," she teased with a smirk.

"Get the fuck outta here," he laughed, the kind that came from his belly. His eyes crinkled in the corners, and his hair fell to his forehead.

"And you don't have to tell me twice... asshole," she added for good measure.

A calm silence fell between them. Sage didn't speak, and she was thankful since she needed to concentrate on making the replica as similar as possible. But questions flooded her mind about his last six months; one specific question sticking out in particular.

"Sage?" she said, unsure if it was a question she wanted the answer to. He glanced up from his own drawing on the tarp. "You said your... employer wanted you to kill." Solace watched his behaviour, but his expression remained passive. "Did you?"

He gave her a grim look. "It's better if you don't know."

"Oh my God," whispered Solace, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. "Who did you kill? Was it a person in power? An evil scientist that experimented on humans? How'd you do it? Poison? Bullet to the head?"

Sage chuckled as he used saffron paint to draw hair on his stick figure. "I haven't killed anyone. I was lucky enough to avoid it."

"Oh," she said, deflating into her seat.

"Why do you sound disappointed?" he asked in a flat voice, arching a brow. "Shouldn't you be happy a killer isn't sitting three feet away from you?"

"Being an assassin would've made you a whole lot more interesting," remarked Solace, scrutinizing the waves of the ocean. It could use more titanium white. But jokes aside, her chest felt lighter to know he hadn't actually taken a life. She wasn't sure how she would take knowing the boy who refused to dissect frogs in biology class and started an Animal Rights Club had committed cold-blooded murder.

And since Solace despised the fact he created a new club, she opened the Children's Hospital Club since people loved babies just as much as they loved animals. Well, maybe not as much as animals, but both of them were vulnerable and cute, and looked great on Harvard applications.

"I'll have you know that I'm a very interesting person," he retorted in feigned hurt. "Cool fact number one about Sage Marco Reyes is that he is a wonderful artist." A lopsided grin graced his lips when he pointed at what he had been working on the past ten minutes.

Solace's eyes flickered over to his colourful doodle, a laugh bubbling past her lips. A stick figure with long curly hair jumping out of what appeared to be a rainbow hot air balloon. "Is it jumping to its death, because that's kinda dark?"

"What? No," he exclaimed, vigorously pointing at a weird shape above the figure's head. "She has a parachute."

"I thought that was a flock of birds watching her succumb to her death. Like crows or vultures."

"It's clearly a parachute. You just have to look at it from the right angle." Sage twisted his head in weird directions, a frown pulling at his mouth.

"I like my interpretation better. More symbolic."

"My painting signifies something," he said defensively. Sage hesitated when she gestured for him to continue. "It symbolizes how... dangerous and untrustworthy hot air balloons are as a mode of transportation and that one should always have a parachute handy." He looked positively proud of himself.

"That's great life advice. Thank you for that," she said dryly.

"I have plenty more from where that came from," he said as he laid on his side and rested his head on his hand. He looked devastatingly handsome with his tousled hair and glistening eyes. "Always look both ways when crossing the street. Never pay for popcorn at the movie theatres. Use the butter dispensers. And wear sunscreen even if you're indoors."

She casted him a can-you-shut-up-for-once-in-your-life type of look. "That's just common sense."

"Some people lack common sense," Sage pointed out, one side of his mouth curving up. "Some people being you."

Her glare was sharper than the edges of her painting. "The urge to break your neck is getting more and more intense."

"You always jump straight to bodily harm. Your threats can use some creativity," he told her in a haughty tone.

"How about I gut you and use your insides to fashion up a Lady Gaga inspired meat dress," Solace offered with nothing but sincerity lacing her words.

That wiped the smile right off his stupid face.

***

Author's Note:

Hi everyone!!

I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know your thoughts! We'll start getting into more of the 'stealing' soon, but right now, I just wanted to set up their relationship a bit!

Have a great week

Until next time - m.k.t