Behind The Painting

The first thing Falcon noticed was that the stranger was deeply asleep, blissfully unaware of him. The second thing he noticed was that the person had the most beautiful face he had ever seen. His eyes fell upon the stranger's face, taking in the triangular features, the jawline jutting out like a sharp knife, an elegantly straight nose being the very definition of slim. A mop of dark hair fell upon the man's eyes, covering them completely, one of the reasons why he hadn't suddenly woken up from the moonlight's attack.

Falcon stared at his mouth, a set of gorgeous heart-shaped lips slightly open as the stranger slowly breathed in and out, his cupid's brow quivering with each exhale. Falcon realized he'd been gaping at him, and quickly shut his mouth, attempting to shake himself out of the brief stupor. He had always been an admirer of beauty, whether it be people or things.

Careful not to create even the slightest rustle, Falcon slowly pulled out the little bottle, keeping his eyes trained on the sleeping figure.

Much to his convenience, a rumpled handkerchief was lying on the bedside table, looking like it had been used slightly before being tossed aside. Uncapping the chloroform bottle, he grabbed the discarded handkerchief and dipped the mouth of the bottle to it, soaking a sufficient amount of liquid in it, all the while holding his breath to not accidentally inhale the chemical. 

Falcon brought the cloth down to the stranger's mouth and pressed on it. It was fascinating how the person suddenly went limp, as if life had been pumped out of his body, which in a way it had been, as he slowly slipped into the abyss of unconsciousness.

He watched him for a while, then made his way towards the picture frame, not being very quiet anymore.

The canvas was smeared with shades of purple, the deliberate splashes of deep pink and violet coming together to form a magical sunset on a beach. It was a large painting, and Falcon was thankful for the chloroform because removing the painting would have made noise sufficient enough to wake the stranger up. He slowly detached the painting from the wall and laid it flat on the floor by his feet, careful not to step on the masterpiece.

The bare wall that was concealed behind the painting was now revealing a sliding panel, a digit console beside it to punch in the unlock code.

090705.....The numbers made a tiny beep sound as he pressed each of them. It would have been fun to pick the lock on this safe, but he had already been provided with the key, which made his work quicker and easier. As soon as his slim finger hit the 5, the door slid open with a click, the most musical sound he had ever heard, a small cavity peeking from behind the panel.

It was dark inside and all light was blocked from his tall frame, so he couldn't see what was inside. As soon as he moved a little to allow the moonlight to hit the safe, all of his blood froze in his veins, and cold sweat lined his hairline.

He had heard a sound, a small sharp breath directly from behind him, as if someone was standing there, watching his actions like a silent audience.

No, it was impossible. The man in the bed couldn't have woken up this early and he hadn't heard the room door open to let anyone in. Had someone else been inside the room all the time?

Falcon slipped his hand inside the pocket of his jacket as subtly as he could. The smooth metal touch of the gun greeted his fingers and he found comfort in it, his finger clutching the trigger as the familiar rush of adrenaline kicked in. He liked to carry his gun in the waistband of his jeans, but he had snug it inside tonight for reasons he couldn't remember now. Perhaps they had something to do with the climbing, the gun could have fallen off, but now he was thankful the weapon was in his hands as he slowly turned around, his neck and shoulders rotating to greet the stranger who was standing behind him.

Somehow, someway, the unconscious man had woken up, and was now staring at Falcon in the dark, sleep-ridden eyes narrowed in confusion as he gaped at the burglar standing in front of him.