My Beautiful Primrose

t-day,

of neat whiskey sat half-empty on the desk beside him, untouched, as Victor, his personal assistant, more

tement in his voice. "Tonight's auction. Yo

ut it, Victor. I'm there for the

ture. But... Lot Thirty-Two. There's been s

the whiskey down. "Lot Thirty-Two? And

g. "Because it's a portrait. Massive apparently. They say it's re

ot exactly my area of interest. But a

ing his head. "Oh, it won't

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

tention was elsewhere. His eyes flicked to the stage, to the objects waiting their turn under their protective coverings. Lot Thirt

ering, "Do you think it's

Everything is worth the fuss i

everything that catches yo

ting of wealthy bidders, the murmurs of assistants and gallery staff, but his mind kept retur

ward, voice crisp and comm

Victor, leaned closer. "Th

thout really me

ped forward. He was tall, si

oothly, spreading his arms, "what

s dimmed

nty Clare. It has changed hands only twice in over a hundred

sed, s

seen it has eve

rinning. "This is it.

leaned forward slightly, the tiniest spark of interest igniting in him. H

us," Victor mutt

on replied, though his voic

lipped away

eld his

ckles scattered like star dust across her cheeks. And the eyes were green and vivid

. "Well? Are you going

mitted softly, though he felt the s

ang out "Bidding starts

n said firmly, surp

widened. "Yo

lmly, though there was a

s did not leave the painting. He noticed every detail, from the curve of her lips, to the soft bl

reath, "You look like someo

corrected, a faint smil

n... seven

ars." Damon said

he auctioneer's voice, the faint scrape of chairs and the subtle h

e, going t

to background noise. He stepped forward, letting his eyes travel over her again,

million. Damon's lips pressed together. "Wor

"You truly are

gaze still lingering. "But

>>>>>>>>>>> >>>

stepping back slowly, drinking in every detail. The green eyes seemed alive, flickering almost impe

you?" he

ainting remained, staring back at

ted and eventual

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

There were rows of primroses in yellow, pink, red, and violet stretching as far as he could see. The

s. Her hair caught the sunlight and was glowing like fire. Her green eyes met h

he name resonated within him as i

sion rippling across

icate fingers brushing the air toward

ions, but the words caught in h

epping closer, the breeze teasing her

eached for her hand, desperate to feel her warmth to confirm she was real. But as his fin

is voice breaking, panic

led around his body, his heart w

the he