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Chapter 1 - The Lost Man

“I hate you” The words pierce me brutally as I remember from whom I heard these. My own daughter hates me. I took another sip of the rare wine I was gifted by someone, I don’t remember who and I could care less about that at the moment.

My wife divorced me as soon as my baby was born and I had been taking care of our daughter alone, not that I am missing her or something. I never loved her, it was just an arranged marriage but I never thought she would leave me as soon as Lidiya was born. My poor baby could not even get the love of her mother but I never made her feel that.

She was happy with me, truly happy. We both were happy until her mother took her away from me. I could not understand how she appeared out of nowhere and took my daughter from me and now my daughter thinks that I threw her mother away and separated the two of them.

Fuck, I take yet another sip, this was the fifth bottle I will be having in the last one days. I could really die if this goes on.

‘You should consult a therapist, I know one’. The words of my friend.

I should see her once, but I don’t have high hopes that this could change anything.

The door opened and I saw a girl make her way towards me, a beautiful one at that.

Her moves were smooth and elegant as she introduced herself, “Hey, I am Sarah Davis” she says and without answering her I just stare at her like a freak.

But after she waved her hand, I stood up to greet her, “I assume you are the therapist. I am Vincent-” I was cut off in between by her as she shook my hand.

“The famous painter, Mr.Grayson” I nod my head and smile.

“So when can we start?”, she asks me and I guide her to my garden, “Ah, the perfect place to relax and take the sessions” she says. “Tell me if you need anything, you are my guest,” I tell her as we take seats there.

“So tell me about what you think is the reason behind this?” she asks me as she crosses over her legs and I glance at the smooth skin, just once before I compose myself.

“My daughter, she hates me” I say and she frowns before nodding, “Why?” she spoke as she took a glass of water the maid gave her.

“Thank you” she politely told the maid and I leaned back as I narrated to her my situation.

“Um, I know this is a bit difficult to do and I cannot do anything about Lidiya but remember that a child is quite sensitive and this may take a while for her to understand so you need to move on from the topic” I gulp at her words.

I know she is right but how can I even be happy without my daughter? 

“I can’t without my baby” I said honestly and she smiled a little. I looked at her while inhaling deeply, the first time she had smiled since we met but I could tell, this was a sad one.

How can such a pretty lady be sad? Fuck Vincent, I think you have finally lost it.

“You have to sir and I am here to help you with that,” she says and stands up to stare at the white orchids I had in my garden, they were blooming. I look at her as she inhales the scent of those and I could feel her blooming along them.

“I believe she is pretty like this” she says and looks at me. “Yeah, you are pretty,” I say.

“I meant your daughter sir,” she says as she giggles at my words and I turn my face away, shit.

“You are right, I am sorry I misheard it” I clarify and bite my lower lip, Fuck it.

The session continued for a long while and I felt good telling my feelings to someone else. I think this might work.

“About the pay, I am open for any amount” I told her but she shakes her head in a no.

“I won’t take money from you” she says and I frown at her, won’t take money? Is this what I think or does she refer to anything physical or maybe a possession of mine?

“Then?” I ask her, being a little dicey, she leans back and my view goes to her swan neck, I gulp as I stop my imagination from running wild.

“Money is not what I need, I need your talent”, I frown at her words, my talent? So she needs my paintings, I can give one of those I guess.

“Sure, my paintings-” I was again cut off by her, “PAINT ME”.

“Pardon?” I ask her, “Paint me, sir. I hope that is not difficult” she answers me.

“Surely it is not but I haven’t held a brush for six months now and I do not think I can draw well at the moment,” I say as I look down remembering how I threw my canvas in the dustbin because I could not draw anything.

“I don’t mind however you draw but just do so, I want to be painted” I looked at her straight with a blank expression. I can try, maybe.

“Follow me,” I say and stand up to take her inside my office. “Please have a seat”.

She does as she is told and I sat in front of her after revealing a new canvas. I was struck with a familiar feeling but I do not know if I could paint or not.

“Take your time, sir” I heard her say as she stared right into my eyes. Her hazel eyes spoke something to me and I lifted my brush to make a stroke but stopped in the middle.

‘I hate you, Dad. I don’t love you anymore.’ I tightened my grip around the brush and closed my eyes. No, no, don't think about it.

I took my hand back unwillingly as I sighed. “Look here” I heard her voice and saw her, she was staring right into my eyes, I could feel unsaid emotions through them. They said something to me.

“You can do this” she says as if she trusts me and I again lift my brush, “Just look at me, don't look at the canvas” she told me with a stern look of belief.

I follow her command and my hands move on their own as I take in the beauty in front of me.

I stroked the brush on the blank canvas, her pretty eyes were the first I drew and I did not once glance at the canvas and just stared at her. I only looked at my pallet and the lady in front of me.

I moved to draw her round and buttoned nose, it was pinkish. My brush dipped in the crimson color to paint her luscious lips. I paint her wheatish skin and a little blush over her fuller cheeks.

I move my hand to draw her black hair, her brown curls at the end. They danced as the wind explored and teased them.

I followed her as she guided me to her beautiful self and finally, I stopped after I had inquired into each feature of her face. I drew everything she wanted me to.

I stood up abruptly and excused myself, I went to my room and slammed my back over the door, unbuckling my belt hastily. I wrapped my dick with my hand and stroked it, fuck. 

“Shit” I groaned as I remembered her lips and rubbed my dick, the whole time I was painting her my dick was throbbing. I wanted to fuck her then and there.

“Aarrgh Sarah” I groaned again as I came. I just masturbated to a total stranger I met just a few hours ago.

🤍

As I say, ‘an introverted man has a lot going on, in his brain and around his d-ck’.

ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

Moon