Painter X Sebastian Novels & Stories

Bash pulled away and smiled. He pressed his lips to Gaia’s forehead before he released her and got to his feet. His eyes scanned the painting as he approached. It was exceptionally good. “How long have you been working on this? Did you ever plan on showing it to me?” Sebastian asked with a grin. “Um. Probably a few months now. On and off in my spare time. And, yes. I planned on showing you when I finished. Do you like it?” Gaia held her breath and awaited his response.

Sebastian just rolled his eyes, going towards the bench to pick up his water bottle and drinking from it. "Sebastian, can we talk?" Xander said after a moment when Sebastian finished drinking. He was leaning his shoulder on the wall, his arms crossed across his chest as he gazed at Sebastian. "No, Xander, can we?" Sebastian mocked the taller with the same tone of voice. "I'm sorry, okay?" Xander answered, averting his gaze somewhere else in nervousness. That was the last straw for Sebastian, he threw the bottle somewhere across the recording room, causing it to crash with a loud bang and wet the floor as it broke and started leaking.

time he had detached it from the woman she had already died of pain, it was little for what sebastián wanted and more than anything when he saw how his wife was dragged like she was an animal and her face full of blood and dirt, now he would get rid of all that hatred and resentment just with the man who had in front of him "You forget that I have your wife little nephew, you'd better let me go in peace or I swear I'll kill her." Sebastián only raised his hands in peace, he knew that Zacaris would not go very far, he would not allow it, just at that moment that white bird had come to attack the man's head, thus managing to move Luna away from his perverse claws and being held by sebastián, w

He trailed off, voice failing him. Sebastian rose, graceful as a cat. “We’re brothers. Half, technically. But let’s not split hairs—it’s bad for morale.” Max’s knuckles went white. “No. That’s impossible. My father—” “—had a type,” Sebastian interrupted, that smile never faltering. “Brilliant women. Long legs. No patience for boardroom bullshit. Mine was a painter. Yours…” He tilted his head. “A power-hungry socialite, wasn’t she?”

Nothing I said would make him believe me or stand up for me. I turned away from them, my chest pounding as tears welled up in my eyes, fingers trembling as I began gathering my scattered supplies. My paintings were scattered around, and I moved to get Matthew’s painting, sandwiching it between the sheets, but not before tears slipped from my cheeks and splattered onto the sheet, smudging the charcoal lines. “Who is that?” Sebastian asked coldly. I froze, my hands hovering over the painting. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing at the portrait. “Who’s in that painting?”

So, for the first time since I was reborn, I picked up a paint brush and I didn't know so much time had passed until it started to get dark. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, why did you have to hide here, is this what you are supposed to be doing ?” Sebastian glared at me. “I just wanted to paint,” I meet his gaze before a strong urge pulls me away and I find myself looking at my feet. “Look back at him, girl! Who does he think he is ?” Koko growls and I find a bit of courage. “So that’s why you ended up painting for the whole day? Instead of you to use your time wisely as Luna.”

He seems genuinely sweet, a huge contrast between him and his brother, I notice. We stop at a large door, and after punching some numbers into the keypad lock, we step in. Somehow, it feels like I just stepped into Christian’s room, sans his distinctive smell. The interior decor is just the same as in Christian’s room, so monotonous and simple, but where Christian’s walls are empty, Sebastian’s are filled with art. Dark art. Very dark art. “Wow, what a nice place you have here,” I say awkwardly, finding it hard to tear my eyes from the image of a man tearing open two other men, with their intestines pouring out. Sebastian follows my eyes and chuckles.

Threading my fingers in my hair, I pressed my face against the desk and released a huge sigh. It hurts. Why does it hurt? I pulled out my phone and I scrolled through my gallery, littered with Xania's pictures and videos. I scrolled through the pictures I had taken of her when she was painting, she was on her knees with one paintbrush pushed against her middle ear, while the thinner brush was in between her delicate fingers, she said that brush was for detailing the textures the thicker brush couldn't do. Once she finished her painting, I could clearly see what she meant about the detailing. The colours she used were primarily dark although some were bright, the painting had some kind of flo

When the bell finally rings, Sebastian stuffs his notebook and pen into the backpack hastily, wanting nothing more than to get away from the presence of the boy beside. However, he makes the mistake of glancing over the notebook of Killian before storming off and there he finds a beautiful sketch, a sketch of himself. How could he draw him so beautifully when he was just lazily doodling? Sebastian frowns while looking at the sketch where he looks bored and then his eyes dart towards the artist who mimics the expression of his creation. "Want it?" The boy smirks, proud to see the impressed expression imprinted on Sebastian's face.

He was holding and felt like he was supporting me as I stand. As Sebastian approaches, he sits on the bed next to Xavier and he was just staring at him. I can tell that he wanted to touch him but I'm sure he was stopping himself from doing so. Sebastian's eyes wandered around Xavier's room and he stares at the picture frames aligned together one by one which showed him photos of our family. The pictures were mostly of Xavier growing up with Ben and I in it. Sebastian smiles, "I'm glad he is having a wonderful life." He turns back to Xavier and stares at him. "He looks just like you Thea."