The group stared as their leader laughed as though it was something they had never heard before.
“You told her about him?” Ian asked slowly, arching one dark brow at his brother.
“Of course not,” Mathew responded rubbing a hand through his messy black hair, a smile still lingering on his face. “She found the man’s journals downstairs and figured it out on her own.”
“In the boxes,” stated Damian as he sat back down, nodding his head a little and sipping on his coffee. “What else was in them?” his eyes levelled on Lindsay as he asked curiously.
“You never looked for yourself?” she had figured they were the ones who had packed the stuff away themselves. Since the boxes had, had no dust on them at all, she didn’t think they had been down in the basement long. Damian just looked at her while Alex and Ian looked startled that she would have even thought to ask such a question. “Well there was sketchbooks and supplies, journals, clothing.” she shrugged and took a spoonful of rice into her mouth, stopping and looking at her plate. Chewing slowly as she savoured the delicious mouthful. Tilting her head a little, watching Damian for a moment thoughts running through her mind.
“I would like to see these sketchbooks, I had no idea he could draw,” the blonde man smiled a bit as he mused his thoughts.
“Could I possibly bring the journals and things up to my room?” she asked suddenly, turning to Mathew for his permission.
“Of course, princess, we can go down and gather them after dinner.” his smile was kind as he dipped his head in approval. He watched her with soft eyes as they ate. No one spoke again during the meal but instead, they watched her with curious expressions. After while plate were emptied and Damian got to his feet, taking the dishes away.
“Do I have two heads?” she asked finally, looking from Alex to Ian who still sat staring at her, their expressions turning from curious to confusion. “Well? You’re both staring.”
“Apologies,” Alex looking sheepish bowed his head, blushing profusely. Frowning a little this odd attention she was being given was startling to prick her nervous, she found an anger rising in her chest. Mathew stood and came around the table to offer her his hand, which she denied and stood on her own.
“Shall we collect a box of your father’s things then?” he asked turning to leave the kitchen, instead of heading to the right that lead to the front of the house he went left. Following quickly behind him, Lindsay had to take three steps to his one to keep up. Reaching the basement door she stopped at the top stair and watched as Mathew descended, looking down into her former prison with ice in her heart.
“It’s alright.” came a soft voice from behind, turning she saw Damian standing there, she hadn’t known he was following them. His face held a kind expression as he looked down at her, his hands held behind his back. “I won't let the big bad Mathew lock you in the basement again.” he smiled and chuckled.
“Promise me?” she smiled but there was an urgency to her voice as she spoke. The sound made Damian’s smile falter, and a look of seriousness taking its place, it didn’t suit him at all.
“I promise,” placing a hand over his heart as he bowed a little. In the way Mathew made her feel safe, Damian was comforting. Lindsay turned away from him and with a deep breath started down the stairs. Taking a look around before looking at Mathew who stood waiting for her.
“Anything you wish to take upstairs, Damian and I will carry for you.” he nodded to Damian as the man came to stand nearby as she knelt by the boxes. Pulling everything out of two and replacing them with the journals and sketchbooks. Opening the box with occult items and pushing it aside as she searched for anything else she wanted. This box, however, attracted the attention of Damian, who quickly came over to squat down and look into it. A look that could only be described as glee fluttering across his face as he moved things within the box.
“Crafty old man!” he laughed and dug deeper into the box “Would you mind, princess if I took this?” his head came up fast. Chuckling deeply as he watched her frown darkly at him.
“Not you too,” she snapped, glaring at him as he laughed, Mathew stood shaking his head.
“My apologies, my fair lady.” hand on his heart once more as he bowed his head, it was almost mocking. Laughing once more as she scoffed and throw a shoe at him, which he caught to his chest and laughed even more.
“Take what you want. It’s not mine.” she returned, adding the rolled pencil and charcoal case to the box of sketchbooks.
“But it is yours, well, it belonged to your father and so now it is yours.” Damian smiled as he stood with her, picking up one of the two boxes she had filled and passing it to Mathew before stacking the occult box on the other and picking them both up. “Is this everything?”
“Yes, thank you.” Mathew silently lead the way back up the stairs, Lindsay quick on his heels, not wanting to be the last one up. Even though Damian had made her the promise she would not be locked down here again. The three walked up to her room in silence, Mathew placing his box on the desk before turning to leave.
“There are things I must attend to.” he turned his head at the door to look at the other two over his shoulder. “Damian are you coming?” a brow raised at his cousin.
“Not just yet,” the blond smiled as he set down the other two boxes.
“Damian.. There are things to be left unsaid.” with this Mathew left, leaving the door open. Lindsay was frowning as Damian turned to look at her, a smile on his face. She didn’t understand these men, but she wanted to. They kidnapped her, held her captive and yet, they didn’t frighten her. She felt safe and comforted by them, nothing made sense. They made her forget for moments at a time that it was not her choice to be here.
“What does he mean by that?” she asked, lifting journals out of one box and placing them out on the desk.
“That there are things I cannot answer, my dear,” he answered, moving to help her remove the items from the boxes, once both were empty he threw himself onto her bed with a sketchbook in hand and opened it.
“Why?” she pushed, sitting in the chair at the desk, straddling the seat and crossing her arms over the back of the chair, watching him.
“Well, there are things you are not ready to understand.” he was tilting his head as he looked at a drawing on the page in front of him. “Is this your mother?”
“He draws her a lot,” she nodded her answer, “he loved her, and yet he left her and he doesn’t say why.”
“Well he had to didn’t he.” Damian looked up at her and raised a brow, flipping to another page, his blue eyes studying her face awhile. “You take after him, you know. Except for your eyes.”
“You know him well? What is he like?” she was honestly curious, her mother never talked about the man who had stolen her heart, and she had never found another man. In all Lindsay’s life, her mother had never gone on a date with anyone, all she did was work.
“As well as anyone could know him, I suppose.” flipping the pages slowly, he studied the works of her father with great interest. “As to what he is like, well. He is wise, talented as I can see here. What is this?” turning the sketchbook over and showing a scenery sketch to her.
“It’s the college my mother attended,” though as she looked at it she frowned and came off the chair to sit on the bed next to him, squinting a little at the page, there in the center of the drawing was a small person with an armload of books. “And that is my mother,” she said softly, it was more like a photograph than a drawing.
“He loved her,” Damian finally agreed, his smile was sad this time. In his mind however his thoughts ran wild, no one knew the reason that Lucian had come here all those years ago. He had been gone for so long and on his return, he was changed. There was a sadness about him, and now it made sense to Damian. The man had fallen in love with a woman he could not keep. A woman he could not bring home with him and in the end he had to leave her and his offspring.
For a long while, the two sat and looked through the drawings of a man he respected and one she did not know. It saddened his heart that he couldn’t tell her all about the man, she was so eager to know him and learn about him. But there was no way he could answer any of her questions and have her understand any of it. Turning to the last page of the book, staring at a forest brought to life on a page with black charcoal. His fingers reaching out to run along a tree.
An ache in his chest as he took in the details, from the grass and flower-filled field surrounded by trees. The drawing drew him in and he could hear the wind rustling the leaves, smell the dew on grass. He hadn’t noticed that Lindsay was watching him, or the look of concern on her face. As she watched his look of fascinated amusement turn to sadness and longing. Damian knew this drawing was made when a man had started to feel sick for home.
It made him feel the same, he knew this forest, these flowers and trees. The sweet smell of them filled his nose as if they were right here before him now. Clearing his throat, feeling as though there was something lodged there, he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene.
“May I keep this one, princess?” he asked softly, again tracing a tree with his finger.
“You know this place?” her voice matched his in softness, she was still watching him, she didn’t know the reason for his sadness but it radiated from him. So much so that she could feel it herself, her heart ached for him.
“It’s home,” he smiled softly and tilted his head slightly “Your father captured it perfectly.” moving his hand away and looking up, his blue eyes met her green ones, seeing his emotions reflected there like a mirror. Mathew had been right, at first she was pretty but the more you looked at her the more beautiful she grew. Her heart-shaped face framed by unruly copper curls. Those eyes saw more than the surface of things, they looked deep into a person. Empathy was something she had in abundance, she fascinated him.
Lindsay watched him for a while, before looking away and reaching across to tear the page from the book.
“It’s yours,” handing it over with a smile, she wanted to ease his pain but she didn’t know-how.
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