Sneaky activities at night

 All the anger gushed out of his body, leaving behind only one terrifying feeling. One that he loathed so much that he once swore that he would never feel it again. 

Fear. Fucking damn it. 

These paintings were not just paintings; they were signs. 

"What is the meaning of this, Ariana?" Nicolai wheeled around and questioned Ariana. His voice was filled with something that even he didn't recognise. "Stop looking at the fucking floor and look at me! What is the meaning of this?" 

She raised her head and looked at him finally but the way she looked at him made his heart ache in ways he could not explain.

"Why?" Nicolai asked again; his voice was low but it still echoed in the deadly silence. "What are you doing by creating these paintings? What do they mean? What's with this fucked-up desperation?

"It's not desperation," she told him.