Meeting the Night by Ash Knight (ink book reader .txt) 📕

"So," He asked, "Am I late?"
"Nope, your early actually."
"Cool."
“Your parents happy with their work?”
“Yes, actually, they think we’re a match of pure perfection.”
“Interesting. To bad they already know we’re going out tonight, or we could trick them and make ‘em wish they'd never introduced us.”
His only responce to her witty and crazy scheme was to laugh his marvelous and deep-voiced laugh.
"So, what are we doing tonight." She asked, as they walked down the street.
"Well, since your so pretty, I figure, we'll go back to my place. I paint, love it, and I figure I could paint you. If you want. Then we can do something of your choosing."
"Thats an interesting way to make a date work, but sure, why not? Lets go."


When they reached the Barlow mansion Bree stopped. She stared for a second, then asked; "Your parents are Gothic too aren't they?"
"Yes. Guess I just got the luck of the draw in that department."
"Definatly luck." She said, giving the house one lst once over, then, returning to the walk up the drive.
The butler, Albert, opened the door for them as they climbed the steps. The man seemed to be about in his late sixieties.
"Albert, I don't think you and Bree have been properly introduced yet. Bree, this old coot, is our butler, Albert Lanks. Albert, my good fellow, this, is the beautiful, and, more importantly, Gothic, Breanna Anderson."
"I don't think I've had the pleasure, Madam." Albert said, smiling a crinkled smile at her, and politly shaking her hand.
"I don't quite think I have either," She said smiling back at him. "It's very nice to meet you."
"Mr. Remington, I think your mother is in the dining room. She asked me to tell you she might like to have a quick word with you."
"Thank you, Albert. Albert, do me a favor, show Bree to my studio, will you?"
"Of course, sir."
"Oh, and Albert," Vincent said, as he started to walk away, "Keep the charm to a minimum, will you? I don't want to come back and find my date running off with you." He teased, patting the old man lightly on his back before turning away to walk down the hall.
"Vince always has had a sence of humor." The old man laughed.
"He is quite funny." Bree agreed.
"I never did understand where it came from. His father had an awful sence of humor, and his mother, while she was a lovely woman, couldn't have made a hysterical hyena so much as crack a smile!"
"Really? Last night they seemed to find each other quite amusing."
"No no no," Albert said as her lead her up the second flight of stairs. "The Remingtons aren't his real parents. He was adopted many years ago. I knew his biological parents about a year before the accident...." He trailed off.
"Accident?"
"Yes, his parents died in a trajic fire. The Remingtons were his god-parents. So, after Trixie and Robert died, they took him in. They've been a family for quite a while now."
"That was really cool of them."
Albert turned to smile kindly at her, then returned to climbing the stairs. At the top of the third flight they stopped. Albert turned to his right and opened the door, holding it for Bree. When she was in the rom he softly closed the door behind her, leaving her alone in the wonderous room.
The room was huge, with canvases everywhere. There were boxes of finished paintings every where, and hundreds of paint brushes, all in different sizes and shapes. There were buckets, and tubes of paint everywhere! All kinds of colors and brands. There was a huge white tarp on the floor, with splashes of paint here and there.
And there was a painting, it wasn't finished, but it was beautiful. The color of the fire was perfect, the building was old, but it was obviously that it was an apartment building. All that was left to put on the painting was the road, and the bottom of the building.
"It's the same building my real parents burned in. In case you're curious." She heard a voice say from behind her. She turned and saw Vincent, walking towad her with a stool.
"How'd you know Albert would tell me that story?"
"I didn't, he warned me. Said you'd probably have lots of questions."
"I don't," She lied, "It's not my buisness to ask the questions. If you want to tell me, it's your choice. I'm not the type to pry into someone else's unpleasent memories."
"You lost your parents too." He pointed out, setting the stool down and gesturing for her to sit before he turned to get a clean canvas.
"I know. But that still doesn't give me the right to pry. Besides, my parents aren't all I lost."
He looked at her curiously as she crossed her legs on the stool.
"Don't pry, I'm not a good model when I'm avoiding questions." Was all she said, before taking a deep breath and becoming utterly still.
A knock on the door about thirty minutes later didn't so much as make her blink.
"Come in." Vincent said.
The door opened and Vincent's adoptive father and mother walked in. They stopped just behind Vincent and inspected the portrate.
"So, how's he doing? He got the red nose and water squirting flower didn't he?" She asked them, raising a brow when Vincent, unlike his parents who all but exploded with laughter, snorted.
"Just sit still. I’m almost done." He said when his parents finally stopped laughing.
"Lighten up Vince sweetie, she's just bored." His mother said, smiling at Bree.
"Nope, just numb from the neck down." She said, earning more laughter from the adults and another snort from Vincent.
He made one more, smooth stroke with the brush before setting it down and picking up the canvas. "All done." He said.
"Cool, I wanna see it. I did model for it." She said, jumping off the stool and walking over to stand next to Vincent.
The moment she got there, her mouth dropped to the floor. It was perfect, he had gotten every little aspect correct. Even the small mole at the end of her right eyebrow. But the eyes, they were even more detailed. The color was exact, so were the light blue rings of color that bordered her irises and faded out into silver.
She continued to stare at the painting even when it was covered with a tarp.
"So, did I forget the water squirting flower or the red nose?" Vincent asked.
"No one every notices that little ring of silver-blue." Was her only response, and it seemed to please him.
"Ok, so what do you want to do?" He asked.
"Um...I'll have to think for a second if I'm gonna top this." She said, blowing at her bangs.
"Ok, tell me when you decide."
"I've got it! We're going dancing boy, hope you know how to move your feet as good as you can move that paint brush."
"Do we have to?" He asked, when hhe saw her face he revised with a cherry; "Ok, ok, let’s go."
Fifteen minutes later, they were parked in the middle of nowhere.
"So, this is your big dance floor?" Vincent asked.
"Yep, break out your dancing shoe's Vincent."
"Call me Vince." He said, throwing her one of his lop-sided grins.
"Ok, let’s go." She said, getting out of the car. She walked across the road, to a breech in the trees that lined the road. Vince followed after her as she disappeared through the breech.
When he was on the other side he stared, not able to believe what he was seeing.
It was a lake, or more like a big deep and wide pond. It had a huge and beautiful Willow tree next to the edge of it. On two of the branches were a tire swing and a rope with a loop at the bottom. Bree had slipped her legs through the tire and was leaning on it, watching him.
"What is this place?" He said, as he walked closer he saw a wide smile had spread across her face, sending her beautiful, black painted, lips into an oddly angelic look for her face. She cocked one eyebrow, sending that little mole into an exclamation mark.
"This, Nohea, is Pandora's pond. It's been around for years, but few ever come around to see it anymore. Most believe it’s cursed. But that’s the beauty of the imagination. At least, in my opinion it’s a beauty." She said.
"What does that word mean?" He asked.
"Pandora? It’s a Greek myth-"
"No, the other one, Nohea, what’s that mean?"
"Oh, that? It's Hawaiian for handsome." She said dismissively, waving a hand at it. She climbed out of the swing and removed her shoes.
"Handsome?" He asked, lifting one of his perfect raven brows.
"Yep. Are you coming or not?" She asked as she removed her jewelry.
"Coming where?"
"Dancing, duh." She said as she ran a hand through her hair and let it swing freely.
"Were going to dance on the water?" He asked, gaping as she removed her skirt to show a black bikini bottom.
"Nope, we're going to dance in the water silly." She said as she removed her shirt to show a black bikini top.
"Oh," He said, "You could have told me we would be getting into the water."
"Too late now. Come on, good-looking." She said, seconds before she splashed into the warm water, sending it flying in his direction.