Page 86 of Lightning Angel
“You’re interested?”
“Of course.” Her voice conveyed the disbelief why he asked like that. “These are masterpieces, Tristan. Your bedroom is literally an art gallery. I don’t know what I expected when you led me in here, but definitely not this. Though I did expect one of the walls to be painted in black, I’m not at all disappointed to find a wall of art.” She laughed.
Tristan joined her, his laugh so open and contagious. She loved the sound of it and was silently pleased that she made him laugh. He waved an arm in a sweeping gesture over the room. “Where would you like to start?
Alexa’s eyes ran over each painting hung on the white and bluish-gray walls. They brushed over a particular one near the door and stopped, the only one that featured a person in it; in this case, four people.
She moved toward it, crossing the room, her gaze assessing the faces of the people in the portrait. Four people. Two male and two female. Two of them were older and the other two younger. Two of them were familiar and the other two unfamiliar.
Alexa immediately realized what the painting was. Her eyes dampened as she stopped in front of the portrait. This was the dream of the smiling boy in the frame who had an arm around his younger sister, the boy with impossible dreams who gave them life in whatever way he could.
Oh, how she adored him and admired him.
And she liked him very much; very, very much.
“The family I never had,” Tristan whispered from behind her. “I know people may think it’s rather insane of me to paint my dead mother and my unborn sister, not to mention, likethis. But this is how I live my dreams in a life of impossibilities and limitations.”
He sighed heavily.
Alexa blinked away her tears and turned to face him. “Oh, Tristan.”
Her heart broke at the pain in his eyes that he didn’t bother to hide from her. She stepped closed and hugged him. Tristan wrapped his arms around her tight, one ofhis hands burrowing into her hair and holding her close.
“It’s not insane.Youare not insane. If anyone has ever told you such, it’s them who are insane.” She pulled away to look at him. “Has anyone told you so?”
Tristan’s countenance gentled entirely. “No, angel.”
“Good.” Alexa grinned. “Or else I would deal with them myself.” She gentled her eyes and her voice. “Your dreams are beautiful, Tristan, because you don’t let the impossibility of reality deter you from them. I love it.”
Tristan pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m glad you think so,” he said, before looking down at their embracing selves with a furrow of his eyebrows. “Is this okay?”
She gave him a teasing smile. “I wouldn’t have hugged you in the first place downstairs if it wasn’t.”
“Right,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “And me kissing your forehead?”
Heat coated her cheeks. “That too,” she murmured.
“I’m glad to know that.” He kissed the top of her head this time before leaning back to look into her eyes again. “But I want you to tell me if any of my actions make you uncomfortable in the future; it’s the last thing I want. Meanwhile, I’ll be on my best behavior.”
He gave her a heart-stopping smile.
“I don’t doubt that.” She turned her smiling face toward the painting, taking in every detail. It awed her how well he had captured himself and his dad in the painting; the only ones she knew to compare and compliment. “Your mother is beautiful, and so is your sister. I assume you drew her a bit like both your father and your mother.”
“I actually meant her to look likeme,” Tristan said,almost whiningly, but with a smile in his voice. “But painting someone purely out of my imagination and with the help of my mom’s childhood photos broughtthisas the result. Though, since I resemble my dad more than my mom, I could say I succeeded in capturing an aspect of me in her.”
“Of course you did. You two have the same eyes.”
“Yeah.” Tristan sighed, his chest rising and falling against her. “I was only fourteen when I painted this. Dad was astonished and at a loss for words when I showed it to him. He cried a little and hugged me tight. Since I wanted to keep this in my room, I drew another for him with just him and Mom. He treasures it in his room. Sometimes I wonder… if my mom and my sister are really up there, in Heaven, like he believes.”
Alexa peered up at him, watching the faraway look in his eyes. “Don’t you believe in Heaven?”
Tristan met her gaze with a soft but wry smile. “Believing in Heaven’s existence comes with the existence oftheGod my dad serves. So, I really don’t know.”
She didn’t know they had a faith struggle in common and was surprised at his admission. “You don’t believe in God’s existence.”
Tristan shrugged uncertainly. “I don’t know what to believe or what not to believe, so I simply don’t think about it.” He tilted his head, his gaze curious on her. “What about you?”
Alexa averted her gaze from him, staring into the space. “I believe in the existence of God. And Heaven too, because my dad believed he would go there when his battle with cancer was over.” Tears attacked her eyes, but she fought them. “Heaven is said to be a place ofhappiness, so yeah.” She shrugged and diverted her gaze to his compassionate ones. “I want to believe it’s real and my dad is there.”