Chapter Eleven

The portrait was sketched with charcoal, and it was so realistic that if it had not been in black and white, Lucianne would've assumed it was a candid photograph of her. She gazed at the drawing in awe for a long time, her lips parting to exhale softly.

Slowly, she inserted the drawing back between the pages of the book and closed it. She placed the book at her bedside table, a gentle smile forming on her lips.

She slept, and this time, her dreams were pleasant. Gabriel was right beside her on the bed, his fingers brushing her raven black hair back and tucking it behind her ear. His breath was hot across her neck and he leaned into her, the warmth from his chest enveloping her back.

He touched his lips to her ears, and whispered sweet nothings to her. Shivers shot up the length of her forearms, and the pit of her stomach turned. Her chest rose sharply, and she felt his kiss on her cheek, his lips widening into a smile.

Her eyes opened, and she turned around to the other side of the bed, her hand spreading out on the bed to touch him. But he wasn't there. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and blinked sleep from it. The dream seemed so real, that she swore her sheets were still warm from his body.

Stretching, she got ready for the day and had breakfast with her friends, who talked animatedly as she kept silent, thinking about the portrait Gabriel had drawn of her. He was absolutely nothing like they described him, and for some reason, that piqued her interest. Why was she special?

When the bell rang, she headed for first period, which was Gabriel's class. She reached in no time, and found herself the only one in class with him. She walked up to his table and removed the portrait of her from his book and held it out to him.

"I think you forgot you left this in your book," she told him.

He took it from her and studied the picture, as if he was seeing it for the first time. "I didn't leave it there by accident, Lucianne," he said, passing the portrait back to her.

Her mouth formed a circle, and she returned the portrait to the pages of the book. "Why did you draw me?"

"Why does an artist draw?"

"The drawing is captivatingly beautiful. I don't look half as good as you pictured me."

"I only drew what I saw."

"Don't you want the portrait back?"

"I have all the portraits of you I need, you can keep it."

"This isn't fair."

He stared at her questioningly. "What isn't?"

"I can't draw and I don't have a portrait of you. I want one. Will you draw yourself for me?"

"I don't do self-portraits," he said.

"Then how will I look at you when you're not there?"

"And why would you want to do that?"

"I feel safe when I think about you, when I look at you."

He huffed once. "If you knew me truly, you would stay away."

"I don't think so."

"I'm not the good guy, Lucianne. I'm the bad guy."

"I don't care."

He looked away, but she could tell his attention was on her. Pain flashed across his expression.

"Gabriel," she said. "If you won't draw yourself for me, let me snap some pictures of you."

"Now?"

"Oh," she said, glancing at her bag. "No, I don't have my camera with me now."

"Then when?"

"Let's see. The weekend is coming up. Do you want to head to the woods bordering Ravenspire?"

"Glacier Forest?"

Glacier Forest was a thick stretch of forest that was mainly made up of coniferous trees, with leaves that were thin and spiky. Icicles hung off the leaves and branches during winter and it was covered in thick fog that added to the eerie atmosphere.

A cemetery was also located deep inside, and more often than not, her friends told her that apparitions could be seen when you took a trek late at night. It was also apparently the most common last location the disappearing students were often seen in, and because of its vastness, no search party big enough was ever able to comb through the entirety of it to unearth any clues to where the students went or what had happened to them.

"Yes."

"Sounds like a plan."

She smiled. "I'll see you then," she said.

"Sure," he said. "It's a date."