Time for me is nothing but something which allows beautiful things to happen. It has been with me since I took my first breath and it will let go of my hand when my body gives up on me. It's a lover of a lifetime, it's with you everywhere, but it leaves as soon as you weaken. Time, for me, is beautiful because it's so little. Time, for me, is beautiful because it loves you till you can take it and then gently rips away from you as if saying 'I must leave your soul now, lover and let you shift into nothing but dust - going back to this earth. I must let go of your hand, but I'm always here - just passing by.'

- V (me)

. . .

My fingers tapped on the table. "It's stupid to even go a university for fine arts when I have an offer to join like....the best artist in her academy. My professors look at me like I'm an idiot."

"Which professors, hm?"

I sighed. "That's not the point, Zavier." I leaned back in my chair, looking at them.

"We have everything," Ashton said slowly, taking my hand in his. "We have everything here, Olivia. I don't understand..."

"I..." I gulped. "You have everything. All I have is you."

"Is that not enough?" Zavier muttered.

"I love having you. I love being yours," I said, and I meant every word. "I just...want to be known as more than your girlfriend and daughter of a criminal."

"You're more than that," Xerxes said, taking my other hand in his. "We can buy you a gallery."

"That's the thing," I said. "I don't...I don't want you to buy anything for me. I want to work. I want to go to Paris and work hard."

They stayed quiet for a while.

"That's my decision," I whispered.

Ashton kissed my palm. "How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Week or so."

Xerxes patted his thigh. "Come here." I did.

He wrapped an arm around me. I rested my head on his shoulder, sighing softly.

"You're shaking," Xerxes whispered to me. "You don't have to be scared of telling us anything."

"I thought you'd be mad." I closed my eyes. 

"Why would I be mad about my baby wanting to spread her wings?" He kissed my lips - Softly. So softly that it broke my heart. They loved me so much. It hurt to think about how much I could hurt them. 

I didn't say anything.

"Let's eat," Zavier said. "Yes?"

I nodded.

. . .

They didn't say it. But I knew they weren't happy with this. They helped me pack as we made plans about them coming over to Paris and me flying to New York. But their smiles had dulled, their hands lingered on my, their I love you's were too quiet as if not expecting me to say it in return.

This silently broke my heart.

It was a few days later when Zavier walked into my studio when I knew he was going to say what he actually felt.

Zavier eyed the glass of wine in my hand and then the paper on the floor. "You're painting with wine?"

"I saw a video online."

"Hm," he muttered, taking his suit jacket off and throwing it on a couch.  He walked towards me, his eyes running over my exposed thighs and up the hint of my waist till they settled on my face. I was wearing a white skirt with a black top, selected by Xerxes. 

Avoiding his eyes, I looked around my studio. It was beautiful with one wall holding a large bay window, the other walls colored black with some of my paintings on them. The rest was a mess. Large couches set against the wall, where they often sat and we often ate dinner when I was too focused on something. Easels, colors, brushes, blank black and white canvases - this whole thing was mine. I felt at home in this mansion, but this room was what made it feel like home. 

And they. They made it home. 

Was I really willing to let go of this? 

I did have many things - not everything. Was it selfish to want everything? Was it selfish to want to have a name other than Creeds' girlfriend?

I looked up at Zavier. He was still watching me. "Am I...Am I being too much?"

He stayed silent as he walked closer. He gently took the wine glass from my hand and then the brush, putting them on a table. "Elaborate for me, Kitten."

"Am I asking for too much?" I asked as he picked the paper up and put it on a table. 

He sat down on the ground in front of me. "Why would you think that, my love?" 

"As Ashton said," I said as he took my hands in his. I looked down at our hands, his were tanned, littered with tattoos and scars and mine were smooth and light, completely unhurt. But I had been hurt. Too much hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut as my ribs flashed in my mind, as the cold room flashed in my mind. "We have everything."

"No, we don't," He said. "Not unless you have everything you desire. I have to admit the thought of you being so far away does not sit well. But you not getting what sits worse " He tipped my chin up. "You're the love of my life, Olivia. Nothing you can ask for is too much. I don't give a fuck if I have to fly to Paris every week. I'd do it, and so would Xerxes and Ashton.  You know why?"

"'Cause you love me?"

"So much," He whispered, his beautiful eyes looking all over my face. "So fucking much."

I stayed silent for a while. "I love you," I whispered. "And I love what I can do. I have talent, Zavier. It would be unfair to not use it."

He nodded. "Go wherever you want, Kitten. As long as you end up in our arms."

. . .