DAWN.
I stood in Dragos' room for the second time, memories of our first encounter replaying in my head.
I could still hear his taut voice yelling at me to leave. I could still picture myself running out of the room, scared for my life. And now, I was back in on that demon— Azrael's, orders.
Making my way inside the unnecessarily large room, I raised the curtains and swept them to one side, as done before, allowing some sunlight to penetrate the room.
"That's better" I mused, walking towards the unexplored parts of the waste of space, Azrael's dagger in hand.
It was part of my job to ensure the lighting was fixed but I didn't want to have to deal with Dragos' wrath again.
Despite the cruel order I was instructed to carry out, the portrait Azrael had spoken about, interested me the most. Ever since he had mentioned Dragos' first love, my curiosity had heightened to a scary level.
I wanted to know what the woman he had first loved looked like. And although I tried to deny it, there was a bit of jealousy hidden somewhere in my heart.
In one corner of the room, rows of junk and old things covered in dust were stacked haphazardly on shelves. I shook my head. He truly was sensitive about his space and didn't like just anyone coming in to clean. Though the clutter wasn't near his bed, I still wondered how he slept so comfortably without developing serious allergies.
But, amidst the dusty collectibles and cluttered shelves, stood the portrait of the woman who had won Dragos' heart.
It had a striking elegance, standing out among the other items, spotless and free from dust, just as Azrael had said as if it had been carefully tended to while the rest of the room was neglected.
As I drew closer to observe the painting, I noticed the name "Rose Constantinos" was boldly written at the bottom of the artwork.
I ran my hands over the portrait, my cheeks flushing with jealousy.
The woman was beautiful, blessed with hair as dark as midnight and eyes as calm as still waters. She was smiling, dressed elegantly in ancient clothing, and adorned in ancient jewelry.
My head tilted to study the picture further.
How could I possibly bring myself to destroy something as precious as that?
I wondered what exactly had happened to the woman. I imagined how Dragos must've been when he was still with her. Definitely, he'd have been less grumpy.
I was still staring at the painting, picturing him smiling and happy and content in her arms when suddenly, the door to his room swung open and he burst in.
It was as if he had known or had gotten alerted that I was there, touching his most prized possession.
The look on his face had me paralyzed with fear, every rational thought fleeing my head as he stormed towards me in quick strides.
"What are you doing touching that?!" He demanded in anger, and I scurried out of his way in terror as he moved to protectively stand in front of the portrait.
"I'm- I'm sorry, I was just admiring the... Lord Azrael instructed me to..."
"Enough!" He roared out, and I shut my eyes in fear, expecting a hit to the face.
"You just got back today and you're already crossing your boundaries. I have told you not to come in here anymore. This room is off-limits to cleaning or whatever you've been instructed! Why can't you just do as you're told?!"
Then his eyes noticed the dagger in my hand and I felt the blood drain from my face.
Fearfully, I let it slip from my hand, the dagger making a metallic thump as it hit the lush carpeting. Dragos' eyes followed the movement, then slowly ascended to meet my gaze.
"What were you going to do with that?"
The question came out forcefully through his teeth, his eyes hinting at rage on a maddening level.
When I didn't answer immediately, he slammed a balled fist into the table next to him, shattering it, and yelled again.
"What were you going to do with that?!!"
I quivered in fear, glancing at the destroyed table in disbelief. "Lord Azrael told me to destroy the painting!" I answered hysterically in fear "I-I didn't want to. I- I wasn't going to... It's not my fault. Please sir"
Dragos released a long breath and shut his eyes, trying to control his rage, then he turned from me and started to inspect the painting.
"Azrael put you up to this?" He asked in a calmer tone.
"Yes," I responded quietly, my hands coming up to wrap around myself.
He cleared the clutter on the shelf angrily, the shattering of breakable objects resounding throughout the room.
"As usual, he's out to spite me!"
The sudden loudness of his voice startled me again and I squirmed.
It was shocking to see someone so handsome... so charming, unleash such... anger.
Common sense told me to leave but I stood where I was, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.
In a way, I could understand his anger.
The painting was his most prized possession, a link to her memory.
His overprotectiveness of it was merely an expression of his desire to hold on to their bond… to still feel connected to her in some way. Destroying it would've meant severing that tie, and he wasn't ready for that.
I understood him.
I understood the need to still hold on, and for that, I couldn't blame him for his reaction.
After some time I spoke softly. "I'm so sorry about her. You must've loved her greatly"
For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to respond but as I was about to walk away, he replied, his voice hollow.
"I did"
"What happened to her?"
I knew I was treading turbulent waters, asking more than I should, but still, I risked it.
"She drowned" he replied, and I was immediately overcome with sadness. Drowning was an utterly terrible way to die.
"I'm so sorry. You must've been distraught when you found her"
"I was" Dragos moved to sit in his big chair, his anger had seemingly dissipated on ascertaining the painting hadn't been harmed in any way.
I knew it wasn't the time to accommodate dirty thoughts but as I watched him in his chair, his hair fanning over his shoulders, legs splayed apart and a bit of his chest exposed under the unbuttoned robe he was wearing, I couldn't help but feel hot all over.
His sex appeal was over the charts, and he didn't even have to do anything.
"You may leave, Dawn," he said "Just have someone here to come clean this up"
"I'll take care of it myself," I said quickly. Despite his outburst, I still found myself drawn to his presence... wanting to remain with him. It was an unusual feeling, one that I couldn't quite explain.
Dragos remained seated, his eyes closed, his fingers rubbing his temples as if lost in thought. "Whatever," he muttered, waving his hand dismissively.
I left to gather my cleaning supplies and returned shortly after. Dragos hadn't moved from his chair, his eyes still shut.
I began to clean in silence, wearing thick gloves to protect myself from the shattered glass and ceramic. As I cleaned, the tension in the air grew thick, and I felt the urge to break the silence.
"I had a lover once too," I said finally, my mind traveling back to the days I spent with Ian.
Dragos' eyes slowly fluttered open, his gaze locking onto mine. "What happened to him?" he asked curiously.
A rueful smile broke out on my face as I answered "Lymphatic cancer. I watched him slowly waste away and now I'm watching the same thing happen to my mum"
Clearing my throat, I seriously fought back the urge to break down "She's uh, really sick"
Dragos had sat up straight in his chair, a hint of pity in his voice. "I'm so sorry to hear that. What's wrong with her?"
"It's a chronic kidney disease. The doctor says she doesn't have long. About a maximum of 5 months. I'm just trying to pay off her bills and give her the best while she's still alive. It's why I took this job. Then I'll make plans to sponsor myself to college"
His head tilted "What about your father?"
"Mum said he left before I was born. It has always been just the two of us. Me and my mother"
His face had taken on a pained expression and for the first time, I saw that he was capable of feeling.
"I am sorry about everything," Dragos said, rising to his feet. He came towards me and took the broom from my hand. "You don't look like your problems"
I shrugged casually "People have scars. We all just have different ways of hiding them"
I stared at the broom in his hands, wondering what he was going to do with it.
"I suppose since I'm responsible for this mess, it's only right that I clean it up"
"No, sir. You don't have to, let me do it."
Dragos shook his head, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. He raised the broom, his head tilted to the side as if daring me silently to take it, his expression still serious.
"Go to your room" He ordered "Get some rest"
His eyes flitted to my ankle once more. "Now"
Giving up, I released a sigh and nodded. "Thank you, sir"
Then I left the room.