Artemisia
Matthew is working on a sculpture. His stained clothes make him look like he escaped some secret fantasy of mine. I stare drooling a bit too long before his chuckle gets me to finally force out something.
“Didn’t you want to have breakfast?” I ask as he rubs his hands clean with a rug.
“I’m not that hungry,” He answers with a grimace, making me feel guilty.
Something about our interaction feels strange, and I cross my arms wanting to scold him playfully to loosen up the situation. “That isn’t healthy. A wolf like you not being hungry is quite a bad sign.”
He answers my snicker with a tired smile and steps closer without touching me, which just intensifies my feeling about something being wrong.
As he doesn’t say anything, I clear my voice and try not to crumble under h
