Chapter 19: Maria's Temper

"Maria, you need some sleep. Like real sleep." Sophie held Maria's cheeks in her hands. "And real food. You need to stop with the sandwiches. Julie and the gang have stopped their pranks, right? Let's get some warm food." Those exhausted green eyes blinked absently. The good friend released Maria's cheeks and grabbed her delicate hands. "Hmmm? Shall we? Maria?" Maria's rosy lips spread into an appreciative smile. "We shall. But not now, Sophie. I have an art class." And it's my only connection with Sarkon. I must go. Sophie pouted in disappointment. "After art class? Please, Maria. Let me feed you. Please..." Maria laughed weakly. The first in the week since Sarkon told her to get a husband. Crying to the sea of hills helped a lot. She emptied all her frustration and distress. Though what was left is an emotionless, automatic shell that moved from class to class, meal to meal, Maria felt that pieces of her were getting back together. She was moving onto the phase of "at least." At least, she had people who cared for her like a family back at the villa. At least, she had an education so it would be easier to get a job later. At least, Sarkon was still talking to her. He had not entirely cut off all contact with her. At least she could paint. Maria gripped her paintbrush tightly. Yes, she could still paint, and she would paint whatever she wanted. She stared at the grape hyacinth in front of her and smiled. She dapped the tiny brush on the white paint, pressed out the excess amount, and lifted to the exact spot around one of the petals. "Blueberries?" A silky voice interrupted her peace. She turned to it with a quizzical frown. It was the student council president. Maria blinked as the guy leaned closer to her artwork with squinted eyes and a pondering gaze as if he was observing it in a gallery. He then backed away and pointed. "Grapes?" "Grape hyacinth," Maria stated softly. Paris raised his brows. His head lifted slightly in realization. "Ah… Flowers. I see. I see. Well, they look amazing." Maria chuckled. "Thank you." The sound of her chuckles was new to his ears. They sounded melodic and cheerful like concert bells, his favorite instrument. Her puzzled gaze snapped him back into the art room. Clearing his throat, the charming white knight in shining armor smiled, this time genuinely. "You have a nice laugh." It was Maria's turn to be surprised. Her eyes widened. They sparkled like emeralds, and Paris couldn't help but get sucked into them. For the second time, he shook his head out of the stupor and stared at the ground, utterly speechless. What was happening to him? "President, are you alright?" A gentle voice sounded. Paris's face shot up. "Please, call me Paris." He mustered his usual grin. Maria returned a delicate smile. "Paris. Are you alright? You look rather… pale." Those teal eyes grew rounder, then a good laugh broke from those attractive lips. "Pale? You must be kidding, Maria Davis. I do not pale." The young artist wrinkled her brows in confusion but smiled in acceptance. "You kept calling me by my full name. I think it's quite a mouthful. Perhaps just Maria will do." "I'll call you whatever I want," he snapped. Surprised again, and slightly irritated, Maria became wary once more as if she was facing Julie. "Sure, of course." She lifted her brush again. Better not say another word to anger these pranksters in case he was one. "So, Maria Davis, as I was trying to say until you interrupted my train of thoughts…" Her brush continued dabbing. "But I didn't interrupt you, Paris." "You did. Just accept the fact. Anyway..." The flustered guy cleared his throat for the third time before he continued. "Have you decided?" Maria halted and frowned in confusion. "Decide what?" She turned to him, and he was glaring down at her. "The student council! God, Maria Davis! Do you have the memory of a donkey or something? I've talked to you about it, remember? 'It's not just about you....' 'Reject them because you know why you do...' You… Don't you remember." He sighed in exasperation at those squinting emerald eyes. Those same eyes widened as if in a shocking discovery. "I remember! Yes!" Paris beamed slowly with hope again. He clapped once and rubbed his hands with a satisfied smile. "Wonderful. So we're in then." "You mean in the student council?" "Yes, that's what I said." "I… I'm sorry, Paris. I need more time to think it through." Paris felt whipped. Closing his eyes, he took a very deep breath to calm his raging nerves. He opened his eyes again and shot a cold stare at the source of his annoyance. "How much more time do you need?" He raised a finger at the exit. "Those poor people who voted for you have been waiting, and they have waited a week. How long more do you want them to wait?" It was a lie again, but he didn't care. He would do anything to get this stupid girl on board. Maria stood with frustration clearly displayed across her beautiful features. "You told me to think about it carefully, didn't you? So I need more time. Why are you angry?" Isn't he supposed to be a nice president? Why can't he understand? Maria wondered. Paris blinked as his mind rummaged the speech he made to this unnerving woman. Swallowing the bitter lump in his throat for the last time, he raised his chin like a proud peacock and announced, "One more day. No, make it three. Three more days for you to think, Maria Davis. When the time is up, you will join the student council. I'm not going to disappoint those poor people who put in so much effort and time for you." With that, he spun around on his heels and stalked off. Maria sat back in front of the blue hyacinth clutching her paintbrush tightly as she took slow and steady breaths to calm her frustration like it was a child throwing a tantrum. Eyeing her work, the blueness of it triggered another memory of her and Sarkon… Bright white lights burst into her room, and two large hands shook her by the shoulders. "Maria, wake up. Wake up." Her eyes flared open, and a familiar face came into view. She observed those blue eyes darkening with fear and anger, then that handsome sharp nose and the beautiful mouth. And then, she relaxed. But the giant was still in vex, his hands grabbing her shoulders tightly. "Are you alright? Are you hurt? What's wrong?" Maria stared into those navy crystals and muttered with fear still in her voice, "I-I'm alright. I-I saw something just now." Sarkon's eyes rounded. "Someone?" Karl's voice sounded from behind him, "I'll look into it right away." "Go! Find that—" "No!" Maria grabbed the giant's arm. "There was no one, Uncle Sarkon." Sarkon frowned. His anger was still in place. "You said you saw something, and you were screaming, Maria." "It was…" "You had a nightmare, Miss Maria?" Sophie's voice came from behind Sarkon. Maria nodded. Sarkon didn't relax. "So there's nothing." Maria shook her head slowly, feeling utterly embarrassed. "Get some rest then," the guardian said and turned to leave. Maria's hand shot out and grabbed the muscled arm again. Sarkon halted. With his eyes on that trembling hand, he exhaled and waved a hand. Karl and Sophie nodded and left. Once the door closed, Sarkon turned back to Maria. "What did you see?" He still sounded angry. Maria pouted and looked away. "You shouldn't be mad at me, Uncle Sarkon." Taking another deep breath, the giant tried again. "I'm not mad at you." Maria swung around. "But you look angry! And you are mad at me! It isn't my fault! I can't control my dreams!" Sarkon pulled the young lady into his thick arms and wrapped around her petite frame. "I'm not angry at you," he repeated through his gritted teeth. "Stop saying that. You know I will never be mad at you." After a moment of silence, the deep voice spoke again. "So what did you see?" There was a brief pause, then Maria muttered sadly, "I saw… a knife…" His body tensed up against her, so she decided to stop. Sarkon insisted she continue. "Go on." "I saw a knife going through… going through you, Uncle Sarkon." She wailed, loud and hard. The large hand on her back started moving up and down to comfort her… She missed Sarkon's warmth. Smiling at the flowers, she dabbed the brush at the same spot and realized that the paint had dried up. She tapped the bristles onto the white paint once more when she felt someone standing behind her. Instantly, she frowned. Paris? Julie? Gosh, why couldn't they just leave her alone? "It definitely needs more texture." Maria's chin raised in curiosity. That didn't sound like Paris or Julie. She spun around. A pair of dark brown eyes stared at her in pure shock.