The last time she made a painting with a serious time crunch, she was 15, and it was for Emi's dad's birthday. She had forgotten about the event, so during a weekend that Solace was using to sleep in, Emi ran in, crazed and a bit hysterical.

Neither of them were very close at that point, but since their fathers were practically best friends and work-husbands, they were comfortable with each other. Solace woke up in a daze to find Emi pulling at her blankets, begging her to make a painting for her dad within two days. She offered her fifty bucks, and that was enough to get Solace to create something in forty-eight hours time.

Solace ended up drawing a cartoon family photo of the Kimura's and her dad loved it.

It also illuminated an idea in her mind to start selling her art for money at school as a side hustle. She made a decent amount throughout the two years of people wanting personal and unique gifts. Solace painted everything from grandpa's riding lions to dogs wearing petticoats and bonnets. It was best not to ask questions when it came to weird requests.

And now, she had a week at the most to finish and duplicate a world-renowned painting.

No pressure.

The roaring ocean was complete with the thundering sky coming to a finish. The intricate fountain was going to take more time, and she still hadn't begun the blonde woman. Solace dipped her brush in ultramarine and turquoise blue, mixing it a bit with titanium white to paint the lightning. It looked daunting and chilling. Just how she wanted it.

Solace had herself locked in her bedroom the past three hours with the tarp on the floor by the window. Her dark brown legs were sprinkled with shades of paint, a few tinges staining her cotton shorts and baggy Kill Bill t-shirt. She took a few snack breaks, and the rice chips Sage had made her bought were addicting. She stretched and cracked the bones in her back in weird positions that would surely pull a muscle one of these days.

I need a chiropractor to break my back. Medically.

Emi popped in a couple of times, wearing her signature headset to take a peek at her painting. She thought Solace had rekindled her love for art once more and was more than happy to cheer her on. She didn't have the heart to tell Emi that it was temporary and out of necessity. Neither could she tell her what it was really for.

Sage had left her alone to work without even the slightest disturbance. She kept expecting him to burst through her door with his infuriating smirk, but he let her be. Yesterday hadn't changed anything between them or the way he acted around her. He still annoyed her the same. She still fought back with the same amount of depravity. Sage had said he wanted normalcy, so that was the least she could give him because comfort wasn't one of them. Except for maybe awkward hugs or dark jokes or cheesy quotes.

Solace's mind kept reeling about his scars, and she wanted to know more. But it was clear to her that it was a touchy subject. She would respect that no matter how curious she was. And as for his tattoo, she would try to sneak in a quick look if the opportunity arose.

Shaking her head to wash away the thoughts, she returned her focus back on the painting. Calm music played from her phone, and the blinds were open, exhibiting the snow and frost. She felt like she returned home. Everything was so familiar. The scarf tied around her hair that pushed back her braids to prevent them from touching the paint and the lone act of nothing but herself and the strokes of her paintbrush.

Don't get used to it. All the paints and brushes will be packed away soon enough.

Solace analyzed the reference pictures, holding them up to the light and close to her face. She compared it to her replica and found that the thunder clouds weren't quite right. Closing her eyes briefly, she pushed away her frustration that was beginning to simmer. Mr. Alessio Bianchi was getting on her nerves, and she was seriously considering rising his dead withering body from his grave in Italy to curse at him about his gratuitous number of clouds.

"Stupid clouds," she muttered to herself as she fixed the sky. "They're just masses of liquid particles suspended in the atmosphere. Why are you so complicated?"

As she damned the precipitation cycle out of pure frustration and hunger, the door to her bedroom opened slowly. Without so much of a look, she said, "Sage, I will cut off your toes if you enter my room."

"Um, it's Emi. Are my toes safe?"

Solace glanced up to see her head poking through the door. She smiled and said, "Your toes are in no harm. Come on in."

Emi swiftly walked in and shut the door behind her. Her fringe was swooped away with hair clips, and her sweatshirt was too long for her arms. "There's an unusual man outside."

"You mean Sage?" she remarked absentmindedly. "And I wouldn't exactly refer to him as a man. He has the personality of a child."

"No, not him," Emi denied, her tone serious enough for Solace to drop the brush and pay full attention. "He's dressed in all black and talks like he's never been happy for a day in his life. Seems like Sage knows him."

That didn't sound good. Anything related to Sage was never good. That boy brought trouble in every waking moment. He could never give her a break. Solace pushed away her easel and stood up, following Emi down the short hallway to see him talking to indeed an unusual man sitting on her couch. He wore all black with thick steel-tipped boots, cargo pants, and a long-sleeve paired with an interesting looking vest. His skin was a light brown,we and a scruffy beard with his hair cut down to this scalp.

"Who's your friend, Sage?" Solace asked with a tense smile as Emi and she stood behind him.

He scratched the back of his neck stiffly. "This is Kane Nicholls. He works with me," stressed Sage as he glanced at her with wide eyes. "He's here to check out my progress for the job."

"Why did you emphasize those words?" Emi whispered, throwing a weird look in his direction.

Solace turned her gaze to her. No, she could have her here, or otherwise, she would have too many questions that neither she nor Sage could answer. "Emi, why don't you go check on dinner?" She looked like she was going to fight back, but Solace pushed. "Please. What if the garlic bread burns, again?"

Emi sighed but nodded and headed straight to the kitchen. There was no barrier between the living room, but they could speak quietly. She kept glancing back at the three of them, so Solace turned on the television, a random soap drama playing to drown out their words.

Solace took a seat beside Sage. "I assure you that everything is moving along smoothly," she said to him. Kane didn't even blink or move a muscle as he sat on the sofa tensely. The elf plushy seated beside him did nothing to make his aura seem friendly.

"I didn't realize Sage was getting assistance from someone outside the company," Kane spoke, his voice emotionless and rough.

"She can be trusted," Sage promised.

"Solace Laurent, correct?" he asked, but the way he said it made it seem like he didn't need a confirmation. "You better be, or otherwise, we'll have a problem."

She let out a shaky breath. Solace didn't feel safe that some random man knew her name. She wanted him out of her apartment as soon as possible. It was unsettling that he possibly knew everything about her, and she didn't have the faintest idea of who he was.

"C'mon, Kane. Don't be like that. We're friends, right?" Sage smiled, turning up his charm a knot.

"We are?" he asked, pleasantly surprised by the word. His brows slightly shifted, but every other part on his face remained passive.

"Yes, of course," he exclaimed with a grin. "And as friends, why don't you stay for dinner?"

"Oh Bondye, moun sòt sa a," Solace muttered under her breath in Creole, glaring at Sage, the idiot. She shifted closer to him until their legs touched and placed her mouth against his ear. "Why would you invite him for dinner?"

Sage's grip around the armrest tightened, and he faced her. He was so close, she could feel his body heat radiating off of him. "To get on his good side. We need him to be happy," he whispered back, his eyes searing through her.

"I do not want to impose," Kane chimed in, but Solace saw the expecting and excited look on his face. This poor man seemed like he was never invited to dinner.

Solace turned back to him and put on a smile. Sage was right. It was best to keep Kane happy. "We would be overjoyed to have you join us," she lied through her teeth.

"That is very gracious of you," Kane complimented with something that looked like a smile, but more resembled a lion baring his teeth. "I am rarely invited. People think I'm boring and tedious."

And he overshares. Great, we got an assassin on our hands that is emotionally fragile and could use therapy. I wouldn't be surprised if he murders everyone before they even have the chance to invite him to dinner.

"That's ridiculous when you have such a sparkling personality," Solace said, biting her tongue when it came off more sarcastic than she would have liked. However, he didn't seem to realize when he bared his teeth even further. "Why don't you go take a seat at the dining table?" She watched as he stiffly walked over to the small table by the kitchen.

"I'll set an extra plate," Emi said, narrowing her eyes at Solace. She then turned back to Kane and wrinkled her nose. "Mr. Kane, can you take off your shoes, please?"

"My apologies," he said and began to unlace his metal-studded shoes that were undoubtedly crushing a man's neck at one point today.

Solace stifled a nervous laugh as Kane struggled to pull off his flashy boots, and turned to Sage, who had a guilty look on his face. "Are there any more surprise guests I should be expecting?"

His face scrunched into deep thought, and after a moment, he said, "Nope, I got nothing."

"I don't like this."

"I know, I'm sorry. He was assigned to watch over me," Sage sighed. "But I promise Kane is like a harmless puppy. Have you ever seen a man get so excited over being included?"

She cocked a brow. "Can this harmless puppy murder a human in twenty different ways?"

"... Possibly," he murmured, glancing at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing since sliced bread. "But don't worry. He isn't going to kill anyone. Well, not the people in this apartment, at least. I can't say the same for the billionaire, Mark –"

Solace slammed her hands on her ear. "I don't want to hear this," she whisper-yelled. I refuse to be implicated in any more crimes.

"My bad," chuckled Sage, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Now, let's go eat some dinner and try to get through the next hour without offending the assassin."

A dinner with an assassin. What could possibly go wrong?

***

Author's Note:

Oh Bondye, moun sòt sa a = Oh God, this idiot.

Until next week – m.k.t