I stalked away without another word. I didn抰 want to burst into tears in front of Santino. It would probably only annoy him and embarrass me, and I抎 done enough of that already.
Heavy steps prowled after me. 揂nna, stop.?
I didn抰， nor did I slow as I followed the new underground tunnel connecting our house to the guardhouse. Santino caught up with me in our basement, his fingers clamping around my upper arm. I stopped and glared up at his tall form.
揑n case you抮e concerned I抣l do a bad job protecting you because I don抰 worship the ground you walk on, you don抰 have to worry. I take my job seriously. I抣l protect you with my life, even if you annoy me.?
揟hat抯 a consolation,?I said, letting the snark I usually only showed Leonas come through. If Santino didn抰 bother being polite, I wouldn抰 either.
At first, his disinterest in me and his lack of conversation had bothered me but eventually I抎 learned how to get a reaction out of him, any kind of reaction really. It became my favorite pastime to annoy Santino until he couldn抰 ignore my existence anymore.
I sat on the grass and dragged the pencil over the paper. The late afternoon sun warmed my back.
It had taken me hours to convince Santino to take me out into nature so I could draw something else than the inside of our house or backyard. He抎 eventually taken me to a park close to home and ever since acted as if I was air.
I slanted another look at him. He stood a few steps to my right with his arms crossed as he surveyed our surroundings. Anyone with half a mind would have known he was my bodyguard.
I scratched the pencil over the paper as I tried to get the sharp line of his jaw and the foreboding scowl right. Santino had been my favorite model for a while now, of course, he didn抰 know. I could imagine what he抎 say if he knew all our trips to different locations had been pointless because it was always him that I drew. Sometimes I took liberty with his clothes and changed them to attire from another century to get my creative juices flowing. Today I picked a cowboy hat and cowboy boots for his outfit.
His eyes cut to me and as usual, the harsh glint in them sent a pleasant shiver down my back. Nobody else made me feel this way, definitely not the childish boys at my age.
People wanted to please me. I didn抰 have trouble winning people over to my side, but my social skills were completely useless against Santino抯 stubbornness. He wanted to hate the job and thus dislike me, and wouldn抰 allow himself to feel differently.
I wasn抰 stupid. I knew my crush on Santino was completely ridiculous for various reasons, the main one him being ten years older than me. Still, I sometimes dreamed about how it would be once I was older.
I returned my focus back to my drawing, shading the cowboy breeches. Lost in my thoughts, I realized too late when a shadow fell over me. My head shot up to find Santino glaring down at me and my drawing of him.
揧ou shouldn抰 draw me,?he growled, ripping the paper from my clipboard.
揧ou have a very prominent jaw. It抯 an appealing object,?I said.
I could see Santino thought I was out of my mind. 揂nd why the hell did you make me look like a cowboy??
I shrugged. 揑t抯 getting boring to draw you in jeans, shirt, and leather jacket all the time.?
Santino shook his head, muttering something under his breath, and tore my drawing apart.
揌ey!?I shouted as I jumped up and tried to rip the remains of my work from his hands. It was futile. Santino simply blocked me with his side and calmly crumpled the paper pieces into a tiny ball. 揇on抰 draw me, Anna. If I have to answer to your father because he finds drawings of me in your room, I抣l be pissed.?
揂nd how抯 that different from your usual mood??I asked haughtily. 揧ou抮e practically Grumpy Cat in mobster form.?
Santino only stared me down but I was used to his dark expression, and stubbornly stared back. 揥e抣l return home now and you抣l hand over all of your drawings of me, understood??
揢nderstood.?
Back at home, Santino followed me into my room like a thunderous shadow and watched as I opened the upper drawer of my desk, where I kept most of my drawings of Santino. I handed him about two dozen drawings. He browsed them, shaking his head occasionally, and one time his brows rose very high. I assumed it was the drawing of him in the wardrobe of Louis XIV.
He leveled his eyes on me and narrowed them. 揟here are more.?
I made an innocent face.
Santino pointed at the drawing at the top of the pile. 揟his isn抰 as good and detailed as the drawing I saw today. That means you抳e made progress since then and because you抮e such a little overachiever, you抣l keep your best drawings separately to admire them.?
I flushed and for the briefest moment, my gaze flitted to my nightstand. Santino staggered toward it and tried to open the drawer but it was locked. I didn抰 want Leonas to get blackmailing material on me. Santino felt under the bed and then smirked. My mouth fell open when he pulled out the little key that I抎 taped to the underside of my bed frame and opened the drawer.