"I want to be free," I whisper while tears start rolling over my cheeks.
"So be free." He whispers back. "I'll help you, whatever it takes."
There's a sincerity in his words that catches me off guard. I glance back at the painting, the clash of colors suddenly feeling symbolic—conflict, emotion, and maybe even freedom, all tangled together. The weight of the evening presses down on me again, but in this room, it feels different. Lighter, somehow.
"Why do you care?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended. "Why bother trying to convince me to... what? Run away? Break free? You don't even know me."
Evan chuckles, the sound low and almost self-deprecating. "Maybe I see a little of myself in you. Or maybe I'm just selfish and don't want to be the only one here who doesn't fit the mold."
I meet his gaze, searching for the sarcasm that so often laces his words. But there's none now—just raw honesty that leaves me momentarily speechless.
"You're not selfish." I shake my head. "If you were, we wouldn't be here, not like this."
"And you're stronger than you think." He wipes away my tears. "Or you wouldn't be here, not at all."
The warmth of his hand brushing away my tears feels grounding, pulling me back to the present. The chaotic noise of the world outside, the expectations, the suffocating demands—it all fades, leaving only this moment. Only his steady gaze and the faint scent of paint and linseed oil were in the air.
I hesitate, his words pulling at something deep inside me—a longing I've tried to bury for years. "And what about you?" I counter. "Are you doing that? Living life on your own terms?"
He grins, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm working on it."
The vulnerability in his answer surprises me, and for a moment, we're just two people standing in a room, stripped of the expectations and façades that define our lives. The silence stretches, but it's not uncomfortable. It's charged, electric, like the space between us holds more possibilities than we can name.
Then suddenly, the silence gets interrupted by a scream in the hallway "Saphia!"
...
hurried footsteps get louder as they come closer and Evan squeals softly in my hand, it feels caring and safe.
"Let's break break your cage, princess." He stands up, all the vulnerability he showed before seems to be gone. "I'll apologize in advance. Whatever happens, don't take it to heart."
I want to ask what he means, I want to tell him that I'll understand. But before I can even do anything. He takes my wrists and pushes me down in one swift move.
"Struggle," Evan whispers in my ear. "Let's put on a good show."
The door flies open, Carter stands there with a stiff expression. "Sophia?"
I try to get out of the grip Evan is holding me in, but Evan is strong. His head never moved, it's still next to my ear and I can feel his breath, I can feel how he isn't even struggling to hold me down. I can feel Carter's eyes on us. What I don't feel, is Evan's body weight. I know He's on top of me, but I don't feel it. Like he's trying to be careful, trying not to hurt me.
without warning, a flash happens before my eyes. It takes a minute for me to realize what happened.
...
Carter's fist had made contact with Evan's jaw, sending him stumbling back. I held my breath as the first punch landed, I'm witness to the only time Carter got physical and aggressive.
Evan wipes the blood from his lip, his eyes blazing with a mix of pain and anger. "Is that all you've got, golden boy?" he taunts, launching himself at Carter with a ferocity that belied his usual carefree attitude.
The tension in the room is palpable as Carter's eyes narrow, locking onto Evan with a mix of anger and disbelief. The soft lights in this room cast a harsh light on the brothers, highlighting the stark contrast between Carter's composed demeanor and Evan's rebellious stance.
"You've crossed the line this time, Evan," Carter's voice is low but seething with fury. "Stay away from her."
Evan smirks, his defiance only fueling Carter's rage. "Why? Because she's your latest trophy? Maybe she deserves someone who actually cares about her."
The brothers clash in a flurry of fists and shouts, their movements a chaotic dance of pent-up emotions and unresolved grievances. Furniture topples and glass shatters as they grapple, each trying to gain the upper hand.
Carter's polished exterior cracks with every punch, revealing the raw, unfiltered anger beneath. Evan, the family's black sheep, fights with a desperation that speaks of years of feeling overshadowed and undervalued.
Just as Carter is about to land another punch, a commanding voice cuts through the chaos. "Enough!"
Their father, a figure of authority and strict discipline, stands in the doorway, his face a mask of controlled anger. "What is the meaning of this?" he demands, his voice brooking no argument.
Carter and Evan freeze, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The room falls silent, the only sound the ticking of the alarm clock on the bedside table.
"What's going on?" The voice of my father echoes through the room when he steps through the doorframe. "Sophia, what are you doing here?"
Then I realize, I haven't moved at all, not since the first punch. I'm still lying on the bed of a young man, as an unmarried young woman. I shouldn't even be in his bedroom, or any room with just the two of us. I know it sounds a bit unheard and old-fashioned. but those are the expectations of not only my father but the circles he moves in as well. The Mayfields share the same views on the matter, I know they do.
I can't respond to my father, all I can do is bowing down my head in shame. I just made a promise with Evan that I would try and break free, but the truth is, this cage is made from an unbreakable steal. All I can do is pretend to be normal when my father isn't looking.
"It's not her fault, sir." Carter jumps to my rescue. "Evan forced her." His voice is calm and restricted, like he hadn't just been in a physical fight.
Evan stays quiet. He could've defended himself, he could've told everyone the truth. But he stays quiet.
"Father I-"
"Sophia stay quiet, I do not want to hear a word coming from you." He's angry, but I can't tell if the fury is towards me or not.