Smoothly, Isaac let the brush glide across the canvas. The light of the early Saturday afternoon fell softly through the half-open curtains, and for the first time in weeks he felt no tension in his neck.
He finally had a day off again—the first after many early shifts he'd had to cover as a vacation substitute. This day off was very important; after all, he couldn't disappoint the boss. He had to finish the painting before the deadline was reached.
His goal was even to be finished a day early.
He wasn't putting pressure on himself to look good, but simply so the boss would be satisfied. Because if the boss was satisfied, he himself could live in peace.
From the speakers of his sound system drifted the melancholic tones of a cello. He'd selected some playlist without paying much attention, but it fit surprisingly perfectly. The music settled over his thoughts like a veil, helping him switch off and let himself be carried by his own brushstrokes.
He hated dealing with other people. But he loved what they created. He loved looking at paintings he hadn't painted himself. He loved classical music and the familiar calm of painting. It was simply perfect for switching off for a while. There was so much more that filled him with wonder and made him pause for a moment to admire the art of other people with the appreciation it deserved.
Aside from that, there were other things that interested him too, but unfortunately he truly lacked the time for them right now. Maybe he worked too much. But it wasn't really his fault. It was the agreement he had with his boss.
If he received an assignment, he carried it out without protest. Simple.
He could count himself lucky that he was still given enough time to complete each job properly—even if business seemed to be going very well at the moment. Because once he finished an assignment, it usually took less than 24 hours after delivery before he received the next one.
His boss was greedy. So it was perfectly understandable that he accepted the next job as quickly as possible. Nothing mattered to him more than money, efficiency, obedience, and above all respect—all qualities Isaac could offer him through his work.
Fortunately, Isaac had never disappointed him; otherwise he probably wouldn't have all the freedoms he currently enjoyed.
Isaac focused on the details of his painting and lost himself in it completely. He was satisfied with his work, even though this time he was dealing with motifs outside his usual comfort zone.
That didn't mean he hadn't already made good progress; about 60% of the painting was finished. What was still missing were all the details he still wanted—and needed—to work in.
If he put in a bit of effort, he would also complete this second painting in absolute perfection. A contented smile flitted across his lips. He reached for his cup of coffee, whose contents had almost completely cooled, and nevertheless took a small, pleasurable sip. Bitter, but invigorating. Just right.
There was still quite a bit to do before he could move on to the next phase. Luckily, he still had a few hours before he had to go to sleep. After all, he had to work at the café again on Sunday.
He was just about to dip the brush back into the paint when suddenly two black-gloved hands slid in front of his eyes. He flinched violently, which only made the owner of those hands chuckle in amusement.
"Who am I?" a male voice breathed challengingly into his ear.
In an instant, the painstakingly built calm was gone. Isaac felt a fine tension crawl up his spine. He pulled himself together to avoid audibly groaning in annoyance. The man behind him was not one of the people he would voluntarily surround himself with.
"Noctis. To what do I owe the honor?" Isaac asked coolly, brushing the hands away from his face. "And take your fingers off."
Noctis pulled away from him, laughing. "Why so tense? You were just humming along to what you call music."
Isaac paused the music and forced himself to keep what little inner calm he had left. Yet it seemed to slip through his fingers like sand, just like his patience.
"Unlike you, I know how to appreciate good music," he replied dryly. "Classical still surpasses that whining… whatever it is you're constantly listening to. Do you actually seriously call that singing?"
"Wow." Noctis raised an eyebrow. "You're really irritable today. You haven't been this snappy in a long time."
Isaac carefully set the brush and mixing palette aside, as if that calm movement alone might lower his pulse. Then he took a damp cloth and wiped the paint residue from his fingers, step by step, until his hands were clean again.
"I'm not annoyed; I'm disappointed because you interrupted my flow," Isaac replied, still in a cool tone. "So? What brings you here?"
Despite his words, it irritated Isaac immensely, yet he had to pull himself together. He knew all too well that Noctis seized every opportunity to unsettle him—and the calmer Isaac remained, the less satisfaction the other would draw from it.
Noctis, on the other hand, radiated the unspeakable ease of a man who knew exactly that he was a disturbance and thoroughly enjoyed that fact.
"I just wanted to check how you're doing," he purred, far too smugly. "And of course how far along you are with the assignment. He wants to know what your current status is. And naturally, I was immediately on hand when he wanted to send someone."
His tone made it unmistakably clear that he had only too gladly taken on this role. Isaac, on the other hand, felt an unpleasant tug in the pit of his stomach. When he sent someone, it rarely meant anything good.
His boss knew perfectly well that Isaac always met his deadlines—and not only that: in most cases, he finished before the agreed time was up. There was therefore no reason at all to suddenly send someone to check up on him. An uneasy feeling stirred in his chest, but he kept it under control.
"Then do what you were told and let me do my work. As you can see, I'm busy," Isaac replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "How did you even get in here again? I thought all access points that pests could use were sealed by now."
Noctis chuckled softly, a dark, vibrating sound that immediately crawled under Isaac's skin. Meanwhile, Isaac's gaze slid over his body.
Noctis was a good head taller than him, with an athletic, fluid build. His shoulders weren't excessively broad, but Isaac knew exactly that a perfectly trained body lay beneath them. The dark red, tailored coat emphasized his slim frame and gave him an elegant visual-kei look that seemed both eccentric and eerily fitting for his personality.
He wore high boots with subtle buckles, tight leather pants, and a black blouse left open down to his chest. A few silver chains lay loosely along his collarbone and glinted with every movement he made. Gloves made of the same leather as his pants completed the image of a man who, in Isaac's opinion, spent far too much time looking flawless.
Isaac's gaze finally wandered to his face. As almost always, Noctis wore round sunglasses with slightly reddish-tinted lenses, giving him something mysterious—or rather, something arrogant. A self-assured grin rested on his lips, one that regularly put Isaac's patience to the test. From one ear dangled a cross earring combined with a black stud; in the other ear he wore several small piercings and a tiny silver spider that he oddly always had on him.
His hair fell loosely and perfectly styled to just above his nose, one side slicked back, the other falling softly into his face. Noctis put far too much effort into his appearance—and unfortunately, it suited him quite well.
"I always find a loophole, as you know," Noctis grinned, baring his perfect white teeth. His canines tapered to sharper points than was normal for a human, lending him something animalistic. His gaze locked onto Isaac's, his expression turning arrogant. "Like what you see?"
Isaac pulled a face as if he'd been offered something bitter.
"Thanks, but definitely not my type."
Noctis smirked. "Interesting thing to say for someone who's never even had a single date," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're over twenty—how about treating yourself to a little fun?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you shouldn't meddle in other people's business? There's a reason things like privacy exist, so stay out of my affairs," Isaac shot back—though he felt his ears grow traitorously warm.
Dealing with Noctis took far too much energy. It was always better to keep contact with this man to an absolute minimum. Unfortunately, he couldn't always avoid him. The boss occasionally insisted that Isaac and Noctis work together, because this guy possessed certain skills that were genuinely useful despite his character.
Isaac hated having to admit that Noctis actually knew what he was doing.
But unfortunately, Noctis was inscrutable to him. Isaac had no close contacts. He had no friends and no romantic relationships.
He was so mistrustful of other people that he had never actually dated anyone. He had never even thought about a kiss or anything like it, nor did he feel any desire for it. His past had ensured that romantic closeness wasn't associated with warmth for him, but with pain, mistrust, and rejection—all because of his appearance.
Besides, Isaac couldn't really imagine that even a single person on this planet would truly want him as a partner.
His albinism was a whim of nature, a perversion that certainly no one truly wanted. So he didn't make any effort to look for someone. And at the moment, he was living quite well with that.
Sometimes, however, he wished he might have a friend he could interact with the way he often saw in the café. He would have liked to learn what it was like to get to know someone and correctly interpret their intentions. Maybe then he could have seen through Noctis. Because that guy was more than just a little strange.
But unfortunately, that had never been granted to him, and now he could do nothing but get rid of this guy as quickly as possible before he confused him even more.
Because Noctis seemed to like him for some reason. At least, he was getting increasingly close to Isaac—more than Isaac liked.
"What a shame that you're always so defensive. The whole world is open to you, Isaac—you just have to allow it. How about you simply switch off that stubborn head of yours for once and just let yourself fall?" Noctis cooed. "Besides, I've never really believed in boundaries, and rules, as you know, are meant to be broken. Where's the thrill if you don't occasionally do something forbidden?"
He slowly stepped toward Isaac.
Isaac sighed. "I don't care whose boundaries you cross. Really. But I'd be very grateful if you left me out of it. Have you seen enough? Then finally disappear. I have work to do."
But Noctis remained unimpressed and continued to approach him. With a calm, almost elegant movement, he pulled off his right glove, never breaking eye contact with Isaac.
Isaac stepped back. His heart began to race.
What is this bastard planning now?
"Noctis, I told you to leave," Isaac warned again, more sharply than before.
If this man went even one step too far, Isaac would make it very clear to him what privacy meant. Still, his cheeks burned traitorously.
Noctis stopped in front of him, leaned down slightly toward Isaac, and licked his thumb before rubbing it across Isaac's cheek. Isaac flinched back, but Noctis unexpectedly cupped his chin gently, holding him in place and continuing whatever he was doing with an intimacy that made Isaac's heart stutter.
Shame surged through him—it was more closeness than he could endure. For a moment, he was frozen in place. Then he shoved Noctis away forcefully.
"Get your fingers out of my face!" he hissed quietly.
"Calm down, Isaac. There was a bit of paint that marred your pretty face," Noctis grinned. "Though I have to say, red really suits your white skin."
Isaac shot him an irritated look, which only made Noctis grin wider. He looked satisfied, as if he had gotten exactly what he wanted.
It unsettled Isaac deeply.
How could someone take such pleasure in throwing him off balance? Why did Noctis seem to deliberately seek out every one of his boundaries—only to cross them with a smug smile?
Isaac had just opened his mouth to say something, but Noctis beat him to it. With an elegant turn, he pivoted away, as if the scene were over for him.
He glanced back over his shoulder and gave Isaac a radiant, almost blinding smile.
"See you, darling," he sang cheerfully.
Then he puckered his lips, blew Isaac a small kiss, and vanished as silently as he had appeared—as if the world itself were making way for him.
Isaac stood there for a moment, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight. Anger, irritation, and a trace of helplessness piled up in his chest.
That guy… that damned guy…
Isaac snorted softly and forced himself to relax his shoulders.
From the bottom of his heart, he hoped Noctis would stub—no, break—his little toe before they had to see each other again.
Preferably the entire foot.
Repeatedly.