Beastly Lights

by Theresa Jane

  “I told you I would give you the world, Freya.”

  “I don’t want the world,” I whispered as he shook his head at me. A small smile was falling across his lips before he pressed a gentle kiss against mine.

  “Let’s go check out this dead guy’s stuff. I’ve heard he’s pretty good.”

  “Liam,” I hissed, looking around as if someone might jump out and scold him.

  “What?” he asked before leading me off into the first exhibit. The self-portraits.

  “You can’t say that.”

  “Why not, who’s here to hear me? Besides, the guy’s dead, right? It’s not like he’s going to have much to say to me either. Plus, I think I could take him.”

  “Liam,” I groaned, trying to hide my growing smile.

  “Personally, I don’t see what the big deal is,” he announced as I glanced around the room and looked in awe at all of Vincent Van Gogh’s self-portraits. They were breathtaking. Each one was showing something different about the man he was and the style he painted.

  “He was an amazing artist, Liam.”

  “I think yours are better,” he shrugged.

  “Liam, he was one of the most influential artists ever to live, mine aren’t even in the same league. He was a genius,” I explained, rolling my eyes at him. “The last gallery I submitted work to told me my art was too immature.”

  “He was the one who cut his own ear off, right?” Liam asked skeptically.

  “He suffered from depression,” I hissed, turning back to Liam.

  “His own ear,” Liam stressed, tugging his ear for effect. “He was a nut job.”

  “Don’t speak about Vincent like that,” I shot back.

  “Oh, Vincent, so intimate. Do you need a minute alone?” He smirked, and I felt my eyes narrow on him.

  “Worried you might have some competition from a dead genius?”

  “It’d take a lot for someone to steal you away from me, Freya. I don’t intend on letting you go,” he smiled devilishly before he pulled me in close, almost making my heart stop with his demanding lips and wandering hands. My body felt like it was on fire, my mind lost in the clouds and my legs as weak as chocolate melting on a warm summer’s day.

  His fingers had made good progress north from my waist when I pushed away from him in alarm.

  “Freya,” he groaned, his eyes opening slowly as he tried to pull me in again. “What are you doing?”

  “I feel like he’s…he’s watching us.”

  “Who?” Liam frowned.

  “Him,” I said, nodding at one of the portraits of Vincent that appeared to be looking right at us.

  “You’re a loon,” he chuckled, grabbing my hand and pulling me through the gallery so we left the self-portraits behind.

  “What would you do if I cut my ear off?”

  “I’d only whisper all the dirty things I wanted to do to you in that ear,” he smirked as my face flamed. This man was too dangerous. With those eyes and that mouth, I never stood a chance.

  * * *

  We’d made it through most of the museum, working through all of Van Gogh’s works, with only a few comments from Liam. Although, we did have to take several breaks to catch our breath because of the...artwork, of course.

  We were strolling through the last exhibit when I noticed Liam had stopped in front of one of Van Gogh’s most famous artworks. He seemed captivated by the vibrant flowers as he stood transfixed in front of one of the many paintings of sunflowers Van Gogh had completed before he died.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” I asked, leaning against Liam’s side and wrapping my arms around his waist.

  “They’re very bright,” Liam mused. "It’s hard to pull your eyes away.”

  “That was the goal. The vibrant yellows of the sunflowers demand the attention of the viewer, but not only that, he experimented with just the single color yellow and its extended spectrum. He shows the flower through its various stages of life from vibrant and attention-seeking yellow to when it withers and loses its glow and its attraction," I explained, watching a darkening thought pass across Liam’s face. I could tell from the glazed look in his eyes that this painting had lodged itself in his mind and was drawing a conflicting emotion from him.

  “Liam?” I prompted, a deep frown filling my features.

  “Hmm?” he hummed, reluctantly pulling his attention away from the artwork and back to me.

  “I lost you there,” I smiled, reaching up and running a hand through his golden hair.

  “Just thinking,” he murmured, bringing his hands up and resting them against my lower back, drawing me closer.

  “I can’t believe you did this, Liam,” I whispered, burying my face in his chest and holding him a little tighter.

  “We’re not finished yet,” he murmured, his voice vibrating through his chest before I pulled back to look at him in confusion.

  “What?”

  “I have one more surprise for you,” he smiled excitedly before he pulled back to take my hand. Then he began winding back through the museum, speeding past the masterpieces and finally leaving the portraits of Van Gogh behind until we were standing back in the glass entrance.

  I gasped in surprise as I saw the picnic laid out in front of me. Candles were the only light in the room apart from the moon shining through the glass on a surprisingly cloudless night.

  “Liam,” I breathed as he led me closer.

  “Do you like it?” he asked nervously, and I looked back at him like he had lost his mind. “I mean I know it’s not outside in the gardens, but that would have been a security nightmare and with everything that’s happening right now, I was too afraid to have you in the open. I wanted it to be perfect, and I know it’s-” I silenced his ramblings with a gentle kiss, winding my fingers through his hair and pulling him down as I pressed up on the tips of my toes.

  “This is perfect,” I whispered, pulling away from him slowly and losing myself in the intensity of his eyes.

  “Really?”

  “Liam, I got to see the Van Gogh Museum without any crowds, and I had a rock star as my tour guide.” I smiled, turning back to the red blanket and picnic basket, surrounded by an army of candles. “You’ve set yourself some impossible standards there, rock star. What could you possibly do for our second date that could outdo this?”

  “We haven’t made it to Paris yet,” he jibed, nudging me playfully with his shoulder.

  “This is wonderful, Liam,” I smiled as he settled me on the blanket.

  “It’s just the beginning, Freya,” he promised before his face fell, a sad thought falling across his features. “I know my life comes with a lot of downfalls, but I want to show you how amazing it can be. I can make this work. I promise you I can.” And looking at him and the intensity of his eyes, I knew he believed in his words. He truly believed that the positives of his world would far outweigh any of the negatives. I guess all I could do was wait and see and hope that I didn’t lose myself along the way.

  * * *

  I had no concept of time as Liam and I lay on the picnic blanket, the food long forgotten as our gazes drifted through the night sky. I was curled into his side, my hand resting lightly against his chest as it rose and fell rhythmically.

  I only realized the passing of time when the sky began to lighten and the streets begin to fill with early morning workers heading to their offices.

  Daryl and Martin must have noticed this as well.

  “Sir?” Martin said gently. I gingerly lifted myself up onto my elbow and looked down at Liam, only to find him dozing lightly. His face was so peaceful and relaxed I couldn’t bring myself to wake him.

  “Miss Freya,” Martin started again, talking to the conscious one instead. I nodded at him but kept my eyes focused on Liam as I traced the outline of his face. I felt his arm shift on my lower back so I was pressed more closely to him, and I couldn’t help the smile escaping across my face.

  “We n
eed to start heading back to the hotel, Miss Freya. The museum is set to open, and it’ll be easier to navigate the streets now than if we were to wait.”

  “I understand,” I murmured in reply. “I’ll wake him.” Martin bowed his head in acknowledgment before falling back into the shadows. He was softly talking to someone in his earpiece as I returned my attention to the still sleeping Liam.

  Reluctantly, I leaned forward and whispered his name to try and wake him, but he didn’t even stir. Instead, I placed a gentle kiss on both of his eyelids, and I felt his arms tighten around me again as a content smile fell across my lips. He was too perfect for his own good.

  “Liam, it’s time to wake up,” I said gently, kissing both of his cheeks, feeling myself become bolder with each kiss.

  “Liam,” I said again before leaning down and pressing my lips to his. At first, he was still, his arms still wrapped tightly around me, but then his lips began to move against mine, and I knew he was awake. I heard a husky noise rumble in his chest, causing my body to flush with numbness, prickles on my skin injecting my body with a warmth only he could ignite.

  “Freya,” he almost growled before I let out a startled noise as he grabbed the backs of my thighs and lifted me so I was straddling him. My hands quickly fell to his chest to steady myself as his rested on my waist, holding me in place when he felt me try to move away.

  “Liam,” I hissed, hyper aware of all the windows around us.

  ‘You started it, Frey,’ he scolded playfully, a mischievous smirk on his lips as his thumbs ran circles on my hipbones. “I was sleeping.”

  “I was trying to wake you up,” I defended weakly, my cheeks flushing crimson.

  “I think two minds, such as our own, can think of something far more productive to do with our time than wasting it arguing,” he smirked as one of his hands came up behind my neck and gently eased me down so my arms were crushed between our chests.

  His lips were back on mine before I could think and by then, all thoughts had already melted away until all I could think about was getting closer to him.

  “Liam,” I groaned when I finally gained control of my body again and pushed up, all too aware that I was still straddling him. “We need to go.”

  “You need to get back down here and finish what you started,” he challenged, reaching for me again as I tried to climb off him. How was it that he made me feel vulnerable even when he was beneath me?

  “Liam, people are going to see us,” I answered self-consciously, and I looked down to see something in his face shift.

  “Daryl,” he called, suddenly shifting underneath me until he was sitting up with me still in his lap, his back to the glass so his body caged mine in.

  “Yes, sir?” Daryl answered obediently.

  “Is the car ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” he answered before speaking with someone in his earpiece again.

  “Liam?”

  “I’m sorry, Freya, for a moment there, I forgot. You’re right, I don’t want to share any more of myself with those people,” he sneered, glancing behind him at the small crowd that had started to gather outside the museum, looking in on us like we were an exhibit at the zoo.

  Curious faces pressed to the glass, eager eyes ready to capture the moment we did something interesting. It wouldn’t surprise me if a few of them were tapping against the glass trying to elicit a reaction from us. “They’ve already taken enough. They can’t have you as well.”

  “Okay,” I murmured, looking down at my hands as they fiddled nervously in my lap.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I nodded as he lifted us to our feet and followed quickly after Daryl and Martin, keeping his own body behind mine to keep it hidden from the curious eyes outside.

  * * *

  When we finally made it back to the hotel, I felt like my body was ready to hit the reset button. I was so tired I had nearly fallen asleep on Liam as we waited for the elevator to reach our floor.

  This caused him great amusement, earning him an elbow to the ribs before we both shuffled into the room. Daryl and Martin were close behind us.

  “Why don’t you get some rest, Freya?” he suggested, rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started to answer the numerous notifications waiting for him.

  “What about you?” I yawned, moving to the room my suitcase had been placed.

  “I’ll be fine,” he muttered, but I could tell he was only hanging on by the thinnest of threads. He would run himself into the ground if he continued like this.

  “Liam,” I started, prompting him to look up at me with his red, bloodshot eyes. “I think you should come to bed too.”

  “Maybe later,” he muttered as another notification popped up on his phone, causing his forehead to knit in frustration. I let out a tired sigh before disappearing inside my room and quickly changing into one of Liam’s shirts I had commandeered as my own. I was developing quite the collection.

  I was about to collapse on my bed when I heard my own phone go off, vibrating in my jean pocket on the floor where I had thrown them.

  Groaning, I went to shut it off, already knowing who the messages would be from. My brother was being more persistent than usual.

  I had just picked the phone out of my pocket when I heard Liam’s raised voice from the other side of the door before there was a loud crash. I could only assume that he had thrown something.

  Gingerly, I opened my door, my eyes quickly landing on his slumped figure at the dining table. My eyes flashed at the blank faces of both Daryl and Martin before I moved across the room and stood silently beside Liam.

  He needed sleep, whether he chose to admit it or not. He had a show tonight, and I didn’t think his fans would be excited to watch a rock star catching some shuteye on stage. That would be a riveting three hours of entertainment.

  “Liam,” I started, gently resting my hand on his tense shoulder as he breathed heavily.

  “I’m fine, Freya,” he muttered, tightening his fingers in his golden hair. Rolling my eyes, I set my phone down on the table. I easily slipped under his arms and slid onto his lap. I wrapped my arms tightly around his torso and rested my head against his chest before speaking.

  “Liam, I don’t want to sleep alone.” It may have been a reason to get him to go to bed, but behind my words was a truth I wasn’t ready to admit to myself. Back in New York, he had respected my need for space and so far we’d never gone any further than a heated kiss.

  We had obviously slept in the same bed before but once I got back from the hospital, I couldn’t bring myself to stay with him.

  Although he never tried anything either. If I thought about it too hard, it allowed my doubts to creep in. Getting lost in my own insecurities was my greatest enemy because there was no telling what dark paths my thoughts could lead me down. Especially when I started to catalog the various women I had seen him with, not even counting the ones before he met me.

  “Liam, let’s go to bed?”

  “With me?” he asked apprehensively.

  “No, with Daryl,” I deadpanned, hearing a startled cough come from his security team.

  “You’re not sleeping with Daryl,” he frowned, shifting underneath me and wrapping his arms tightly around my waist.

  “Then what are we still doing sitting here?” I challenged, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “Are you wearing my shirt?” he frowned.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Did you steal that?”

  “Do you want it back?” I asked devilishly, reaching for the hem and having Liam’s warm hand quickly cover mine.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he growled, using his body to cover mine from his security team before he twisted in his chair to face them.

  “Why don’t you both go and get some rest?” he suggested, holding my hand tightly as they nodded and left the room, but I didn’t miss the smirk on Daryl’s face as he disappeared
.

  “So, bed?” I asked brightly as he slowly turned back to face me.

  “That wasn’t funny, Frey,” he scolded.

  “I think that really depends on who you ask,” I argued, not able to hide the smirk on my lips. He let out a frustrated groan before he stood up, pushing me gently from his lap and grabbing my hand tightly in his.

  “I want my shirt back, Frey,” he growled as he led me through the hotel suite and into his bedroom. Warmth flooded my body, and I lost my balance for a second as my legs threatened to give out on me.

  “Um…I was…I don’t…” I stuttered, my mind swirling with half-formed sentences and insane thoughts.

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to poke the beast?” Liam smirked.

  “Umm…” I stuttered, my eyes going wide as he started to pull his shirt over his head. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment and quickly looked away, each and every one of his muscles both terrifying and exciting me. When I heard his jeans hit the floor, I swear I almost choked on my tongue. I was not ready for this.

  “Freya?” he prompted, his voice filled with amusement.

  “Umm, I think I’ll just…umm,” I rambled, feeling my numb legs start to carry me from the room, stumbling slightly in my haste to get away.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he chuckled, moving faster than my mind could comprehend, scooping me up in his arms and pressing me firmly to his chest.

  “Liam,” I started, trying to get my thoughts in order.

  “Frey,” he smirked, pulling the covers back with one arm and throwing me against the mattress.

  “I-I think…well, I didn’t mean to lead you on…it was just,” I couldn’t find the words and with every second I felt my face flame brighter, wondering if he could feel the heat from my cheeks. “I can’t-I don’t want to do…that. I’m not ready. I-I didn’t…” I heaved a loud, uncomfortable sigh before I looked up at him regretfully. “Are you angry?”

  “Freya,” he sighed, crouching beside the bed and taking both of my hands in his. “Why would you think I would be angry? I know you’re not ready.”

  “I just thought…well, you know, you planned that amazing night and-”