Another lesson gone off without a hitch. As the bell rang, the students began milling out of the classroom, the last few papers being handed in as they went. Erica cheerfully said goodbye to each of them.

A collection of papers a good bit thicker than the rest of them was placed in her hands and she met Jay’s grim eyes. It seemed as though she had something left to say. “What is it, Jay?”

Jay frowned, probably at herself, and said, “When you get home, make sure you read this one first. And not tomorrow, or even tonight. Before seven this evening… You have to have read it.”

The seriousness of Jay’s words startled Erica, but then again, Jay could be rather serious when she wanted to. Erica smiled reassuringly. “Of course, I’ll make sure of it.”

Looking off, Jay seemed on the edge of saying something else, but as other students began trying to turn in their own papers, she apparently decided against it. “Thanks. Goodbye.”

As Jay began leaving with the rest, Erica let out a cheerful, “See you soon!”

Jay glanced back at her but didn’t reply.

The whole encounter seemed a little strange, but Erica was quickly distracted by all of the other students. In only a few minutes, she was alone in the classroom. Other classes would soon arrive, so she had better get ready. But before that, she wanted to check something.

She stuck her head out of the classroom door like a meerkat and found Kreig in an instant. He was standing right outside, wearing his usual P.E clothes and carrying a little clipboard. With his immense build, the whole outfit seemed pretty tacky, but Erica only found it cute. Their eyes met and Erica could tell that he was happy to see her, just as she was happy to see him.

The time between classes was brief, but it was enough time.

Kreig silently entered the classroom. For a few seconds, he just looked around and fiddled with his fingers. Then, he looked back at Erica. “Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?”

Erica lit up at the thought of Kreig’s cooking. “Well, of course, I-,” But then she remembered her promise to Jay. An article of that length would take at least half an hour to read, so she really couldn’t stay as long as a shared dinner would require. Heart slumping, she dejectedly shook her head. “I’m sorry, I made a promise to Jay that I’d read her article by seven tonight.”

He seemed perplexed. “A strange promise. Nonetheless, upholding a vow certainly goes before any dinner. However…” He turned away to regard the whiteboard. “If you only stay for the afternoon, I have something I would like to show you.”

“I suppose, as long as I leave before it gets too late, I should have time, right?”

Kreig turned back to her with the tiniest smile. “Of course. I’ll be quick.”

Then, before he left for his own class, she gave him a little peck on the cheek, just for luck.

The rest of the day passed quickly, with Kreig coming to visit her classroom every few hours. At lunch, they ate together, and when the bell rang for the final time, they biked home to Kreig’s apartment side-by-side.

The papers cradled in her bag didn’t weigh as heavy as they should have.

“So?” Erica asked excitedly. “What did you want to show me?”

Kreig remained silent as he removed a jacket he had begun wearing as of late and hung it in the hall. She watched in impatient interest as he moved towards the middle of the living room, where she found a canvas standing blank and ready. Moving quickly, he retrieved a chair and placed it adjutant to the canvas.

Erica blinked and burst out into a massive grin. “You’re going to paint me!” With a laugh playing on her lips she skipped over towards the chair, beaming a smile almost only ever found on schoolgirls. Kreig stared at her. She looked back at him. “Or are we doing some sort of role-reversal? I’ll have you know I got a strong B in art!”

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I was only transfixed by your beauty.”

Erica grinned slyly. “Charmer. Very well! As you’ve been so courteous until now, I shall allow you to paint me. Then again, technically, I guess you’ve painted me before?”

“Well, yes,” he said hesitantly. “But technically no. I never truly painted you a portrait.”

“Huh. I guess so!” In one grand move, Erica sat herself down on the chair, trying to get into a suitably preposterous posture without breaking her spine. But right as she got herself comfortable, Kreig handed her a little flower. She looked at it strangely. It was weird. The flower was white with red spots. It wasn’t a particularly odd flower, it was actually quite regular, but something about its weight and size felt off. As though it hadn’t been grown, but rather created. Maybe in a lab or something.

Erica carefully examined the stem. Nothing odd there. Had Kreig’s Russian mobster caretakers gifted him a lab-grown sample of a new breed of flower?

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Or he’d bred it himself. With Kreig, either one was likely enough.

“It means Love,” Kreig said absently as he prepared his palette.

“It does?” Erica took a whiff of the flower. Sweet and flowery, a little lighter than a rose but no heavier than an orchid. “Makes sense to me.”

After a few seconds of studying the flower, Erica came to realize that Kreig was looking at her. And so, with a flurry of movement, she took a relaxed pose, holding the flower to her nose. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Kreig began to work.

It was hard work, painting someone you loved.

The trouble was to represent them accurately. To show them as they are, to make sure that when you turn the canvas and show it to them that they are not horrified by your skewed need to please them.

But you can only paint them as you see them, and through your loving eyes, they hold no flaws. They are perfect, and so that is what you paint. But painting perfection is no simple matter either. How can you put emotion into dead pigments and wet materials? Is it truly possible to give lustre to eyes whose radiance is a lie?

This was the problem presented before Kreig. Nevertheless, he was no amateur artist by now. Despite what he himself might say, he had all the skills necessary to give life to the corpse of a canvas.

But he wanted to do more. Simply portraying her as she was wasn’t enough. He had no sight to paint but his own, and so, in order for him to make this sight of beauty beyond principle believable, he had no choice but to place not only what he sees upon the canvas, but so, too, what he feels.

And that he did.

All the feelings in his heart, although they felt overflowing, he placed on the canvas alongside his paints. The painting that took form mirrored reality in many ways, but there was something rounded about it. Some form and colour and motion that put a feeling into it that made just the sight of it feel lovable.

“What do you think about Jay?”

Kreig looked up at Erica, briefly brought out of his reverie. When he now looked at her, he felt her form muted and changed, as though she were a painting. “How do you mean?”

Erica grimaced in thought. “Well, you know, she’s… I think she has some real trouble at home.” Kreig nodded, trying his very best to split his attention between listening to her and drawing her. “But she can get better. That’s what I think, at least. You haven’t seen anything she’s done, but…”

“No, she tried to interview me once. She had all the makings of a proper interrogations officer.”

Erica visibly lit up. “You think so too?”

“Yes,” he said. “Though she will need a bit more training.”

“Well, yeah, that’s a given.” Erica quickly sunk back into thoughtful silence. “It’s really up to adults like us to make sure people like that don’t go off the deep end. Teenagers are… Heh, you know. Us meeting her was surely not a coincidence.” Erica sighed wistfully. “I bet some higher power is looking after her. Like the lizard king, hoping to make her his bride…”

Kreig could feel his brows knit together. Didn’t the lizard king already have plenty of brides? Why would he need a human one? Worse yet, how come Erica would know about any of that?

Unsure how to answer, he let her return to her contemplative silence. She was the prettiest that way, anyways. Looking off forlornly, eyes glittering with thoughts of whatever strange things her mind conjured.

It only took an hour or two, but he finished the portrait.

And in the corner of his eye, he saw a little message from a system he no longer had all that much care for.

Artistry reached Rank X

He blinked at it, unsure how that happened. This painting…

He tried to evaluate his painting objectively but found that he could not suppress his feelings of adoration. Was it a good painting because he made it, or was it a good painting because it portrayed Erica? He couldn’t tell, but while he sat in silent stupor of the painting, he let the description of the final skill’s rank float to the top of his mind.

Artistry (X)

Rank X: Evoke love

Rank V: Evoke opinion

Rank IV: Evoke emotion

Rank III: Greater anatomy, perspective, shading

Rank II: Greater colour and design

Rank I: Stable hands, smoother lines

Evoke… love?

Shouldn’t something like that be contained in rank IV? Or maybe this was…

He stared at the painting, feeling a sigh raise to his lips. It was gorgeous. It was, without a doubt, the greatest piece of art he had ever created. Although his other paintings likewise contained soul and life, this one seemed to hold some other element, some singular emotion above sorrow or joy. Something that described not just humanity, but life itself.

Erica, lost in thought, had clearly not realized Kreig had finished.

And yet, he hesitated to call out to her. For when his eyes left the painting, he found it still sitting there in that chair, just as lovable as before.

“Erica,” he said softly. When she didn’t respond, he said it again, just a little louder, “Erica.”

“Huh?” she turned away from the flower in her hand. “What is-, oh! Are you done? Is it finished?”

Kreig hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Grinning like a child, she hopped off the chair, still holding the little flower. Kreig remained by the canvas, feeling like a student about to be graded by their teacher. It didn’t help that Erica was not only an actual teacher, but also his teacher. But when she finally moved to his side and let her eyes fall on the painting, she didn’t say a thing. Not a word of comment or praise or critique. She simply froze.

Kreig turned to regard her face. It was petrified in a mask of sheer shock.

Then, slowly, she approached the painting, putting her eyes at the level of her counterpart’s.

“Careful, it remains wet,” Kreig warned quietly.

Not a hair touched the painting. Her eyes slowly moved from her counterpart’s face and over to the flower she held. Moving stiffly, she brought up the flower in her own hand and regarded it silently. She smiled thinly. “How’d you do that?” she asked in a small voice. “How’d you make the flower in the painting look so much more alive than the real one?”

In a shrunken little corner of his heart, Kreig wanted to say it was all due to the system, that without its help he could never have done this, that he would be nothing without it and that everything he was and everything he wasn’t was because of it. But then the words of Darius rose to his mind, and the gentle praise of his siblings shone through and he simply smiled at her. “Thank you,” he said. “It was only because it was you.”

She blushed. Smiled. And began to laugh. It was a strange laugh, not like the ringing of silver bells or the chime of a clock, but rather like the dying croaks of a strangled seagull.

And yet, as he heard it, Kreig couldn’t help but smile as well, his lips parting into a burst of laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. He had almost forgotten how to. But here, now, with Erica throwing her arms around him, he laughed with such mirth that he couldn’t remember anything else but this immense joy. He decided right there and right then that should anything happen to her, should anything threaten to remove her from his life, that he would fight it tooth and nail. He valued her like a king valued his kingdom, like an artist adored their art.

After a minute or so, their laughter slowly died down, but she still held onto him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before,” Erica said, breathless. Kreig smiled at her. “It’s a good laugh! You should laugh more, methinks.”

“If you say so,” Kreig agreed.

Erica smiled back at him, her eyes filled with a shining lustre.

But she couldn’t stay all night, and with a parting kiss that Kreig really had to bend down low for, she left for home, leaving Kreig to make dinner for his siblings.