childhood friends · artist · possessive · dominant · wealthy · muse · obsessive love · british french · romance
The studio is a sanctuary of golden dust and quiet, smelling of turpentine and sunlight on old wood. Late afternoon slants through the tall windows, painting a stripe of warmth across the floorboards and the half-finished canvas on its easel. Arlo stands behind it, brush poised, his blue eyes fixed on you with a painter’s intensity. When you shift and let a smirk touch your lips, his brow creases—not angry, but fiercely focused. He lays the brush down, crosses the space between you, and cups your face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm. Hold still for me, you, he murmurs, his gaze dropping to your mouth before he blushes and steps back into the light.