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He stalked over to the canvas to call e it, I stood in front of the canvas like a hu to it

Rafiq gave a look so stern, it made my knees quiver

“Let me see,” he said

“Look, I wasn’t…”

“Letor playful in his voice

The tiniest sliver of fear ran throughto hiht

“What is this?” he said in a harsh whisper, pointing “Is this me?”

“It’s just a painting,” I said, ot inspired”

“You got inspired to paintand shirtless, without my consent?” said Rafiq Fury came off his skin in waves “Who do you think you are? You can’t just go around painting people without their permission like this!”

There was so , wounded, as if he’d taken a razor to my skin Tears stared to burn the back of my eyes “I didn’t mean to violate your privacy I just… I had to do it I saw you there on the couch like that, and I…” My ht words for my emotions “I couldn’t look away You were so different in that moment, I wanted to capture it I’m sorry, Rafiq”

The last words dropped fro roo with his heated breathing Alaze tore away froic trick, I watched as the muscles in Rafiq’s face slowly softened His knitted brows relaxed, and the light came back to his deep brown eyes

He turned and faced the painting head on, staring He didn’t speak for so long that eventually I softly put a hand on his shoulder

“I’ to hurt you, Rafiq, truly I should have given it ht up in the inspiration”

At first, he said nothing Then Rafiq reached up and planted one of his big hands on top of ave it a soft squeeze Warh me, and my panic died

“You-you didn’t,” he said suddenly, clearing his throat “You didn’t hurt me I’m sorry, Evie, I shouldn’t have lost ize”

“No, you’re right,” I said “I shouldn’t have painted you without asking first You were right to be upset It was a violation”

Rafiq didn’t acknowledge ht it was,” he said, eyes still on the painting “I’ve never…”

“Never what?” I asked when he trailed off

He took a deep breath “I don’t remember the last time someone took this kind of interest in me”

His words surprised me “How can you say that? The paparazzi are constantly on your heels, and you can pluck any wo an interest in you?”

Rafiq blinked slowly When he looked at me, there was a pain in his eyes that made me sorry I had questioned what he said

“It’s not the same,” he replied “I don’t kno toin this worl

d, but it’s not the same They aren’t interested in me They just use me for what they need The paparazzi only like me because pictures of me, and stories about my life, they make money I don’t knohy, but they do And the women, well…there’s a lot about me they enjoy, but it certainly isn’t me It’s only parts of me Often times, it’s just my money, and my power”