Chapter 8

Khloe's POV:

I stared down at the city that I once lived in from my place on Master's window sill, holding one of its pillows against my body as I watched the moon take over the sky

Master dropped me off after dinner, leaving me to my own accord. He told me I could do whatever I wanted while he was gone as long as I didn't break anything or disorganize his workspace.

He said something about a meeting with Lord Bronwyn.

Luckily he decided not to take me with him. 

Lord Bronwyn has been the Lord of this city even before my parents were born, and I really didn't want to have to meet him.

Master probably knew that I would have been a nervous wreck if he made me go with him.

I jumped as the door flew open.

"Pet!" Master yelled as he stomped into the room, slamming the door behind him.

My eyes went wide as he spoke.

He's never called me that before.

His footsteps echoed through the room as he stormed towards his desk.

His body was tense as his eyes searched the room.

I shrunk back as soon as his eyes met with mine, holding the pillow closer as if it would protect me from anything.

"Y-Yes?"

I could tell that he was mad, it was written all over his face. That and a bit of annoyance.

Apparently the meeting didn't go very well?

He sat down into his desk chair as his fingers drummed against the armrest.

"Come here." He commanded, his emerald eyes trapping mine.

A new kind of fear rushed through my body as I froze in place for a second.

I tried to mentally prepare myself for what he would do to me.

Angry Masters usually lead to damaged pets.

Still, I followed his order, slowly pushing myself off of the window sill and taking quick steps towards him.

He held a slight glare as he watched my movements like he was waiting for me to do something wrong.

He continued his stare as I stood in front of him.

I squeal escaped me when I felt his hands on my waist before I found myself sitting on his lap.

His grip was tight even though he was only holding me for a split second.

A list of possible outcomes of what would happen to me flew through my head as I sat back against his hard chest.

Even when sitting he still towered over me.

Master grumbled lowly to himself as the chair turned towards the desk.

He hunched down so that his head sat near my shoulder, dangerously close to my neck.

I couldn't move away.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, clenching my hands into fists in an act to stop myself from shaking.

My mouth was too dry to say anything.

What would I even say?

I flinched back as he began shuffling through the organized papers on his desk.

He would pick up a certain paper and place it in a certain file, some would find their way into the trash.

My stomach turned when he paused on a specific pile of papers, a certain page sticking out from the others.

"What's this?" He asked, sitting up straight as he dragged the paper out from under the others.

His voice was oddly calmer, yet it was still evident that he was angry.

I tensed as he lifted the paper up, showing the large sketch of a dreamcatcher.

I told myself earlier that I would hide that after I got out of the shower!

He peered his head down for an answer.

"I'm sorry," I blurted, "I should have asked you first before I drew on it! It was a blank piece of paper so I just assume-"

I cut myself off.

I've learned that excuses never work. They only make the person angrier.

I was a bit surprised to see he was actually admiring it.

"You drew this?" He asked.

His voice had calmed down.

I nodded slowly.

His eyes trailed down to each of the feathers and beads.

"Where did you learn how to draw like this?"

My eyes widened at his sudden interest.

He didn't even seem to be mad about it.

"I um..."

I cleared my throat, placing my hands on my lap.

"I wanted to be a tattoo artist, so I've been drawing for a while," I admitted quietly.

He shifted his eyes from the paper, looking at me questioningly.

"You? A tattoo artist?"

I know that it sounded weird.

A short little, redhead wanting to be a tattoo artist even as a little girl.

Even my parents thought weirdly of the idea when I first introduced it to them.

Then again, I was only six.

I nodded.

Master dropped the subject, focusing back on the drawing.

It was odd having someone interested in my work, especially him.

"I've been out of practice ever since I got- um... captured, so that's why the drawing is a bit rough." I stuttered, looking down nervously.

Again he looked down at me.

"You think that this looks rough?" he asked. He obviously disagreed with me

I involuntarily shrunk back a bit.

For most people's standards, no, but I know that I've set my own standards when it comes to drawing pretty high.

I know that with all of those uneven lines and certain edges that I still need to smoothen out, I'd never feel confident enough to put that on someone's body.

"A little," I replied, not wanting to totally disagree with him.

He hummed a bit as he sat the paper back onto his desk, staring down at it.

"How so?" He asked.

My eyes went wide for a moment.

"Well, um," I carefully scooted forward so that I could reach the paper.

I pointed to the main part of the dreamcatcher, tracing my finger around it.

"This part needs to be a bit smoother. And" I pointed to the center feather, "I'd like this to be a bit bigger."

I drew my hand back, leaning back ever so slightly.

"Plus I need to add some shading." I finished.

Masters' eyes were narrow as he lifted up the paper.

"Do you plan on doing that?" He asked.

I glanced up at him, switching between the paper and him.

"Yes," I replied.

I jumped a bit at the chair rolled back away from the desk.

Master set the paper in my lap, as well as one of his many pencils.

"Do it then." He stated.

I eyed him questioningly.

He was ordering me... to draw?

"Now?" I asked, grabbing the items.

He nodded before lifting me up from under my arms and placing me beside the chair.

"It'll give you something to do while I finish what I have to do."

He soon returned to where he sat at his desk, continuing what he was doing before.

I stared at him for a bit as he gazed over the papers.

He was so angry just a minute ago.

I sighed silently as I sat in front of the coffee table, setting the pencil and paper on it.

At least I got away unscathed.