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"Can I speak with Geet, please?"
Pari rubbed the sleepiness away from her eyes, nodding and stepping aside to allow Johan to come through. He took a seat, the tension radiating from his bones and beyond his suit to fill the entire room with an uncomfortable silence. She disappeared into Geet's room and stayed there whilst Geet emerged, patting down her unruly hair.
"Good morning Johan," she said as she sat opposite him. He nodded once, and she knew what he was going to say.
"Would you like anything?"
He shook his head.
"Geet, I won't be working for you anymore."
***
On the other side of the door, Pari was sat on the edge of Geet's bed. Her head fell into her hands as she processed the events of the night before, things she had heard and sights that she witnessed which she knew changed everything.
She sighed as she walked over to the window, staring out as the morning sun began to illuminate the trees, bringing them to life after a period of darkness. An idea struck her, and she grabbed one of Geet's winter coats and fled out of the door.
***
Geet had been pulling something from a drawer when the whoosh of her sister's footsteps startled her. Turning back, she watched as Pari left the apartment, without a word or a glance at anyone. She raised an eyebrow at Johan quizzically, but he looked away.
She retrieved the envelope and placed it on the armrest beside him. He stood up, collecting the envelope and taking his leave.
"Johan, wait. There's something else I have to give you before you leave."
Geet sauntered into the kitchen, and came out moments later with a canvas and a letter attached. "This is for you. For everything you've done for me, I really do appreciate it."
He stepped forward to take the canvas, and she placed it down and pulled him into a hug instead. His arms subconsciously closed around her, her hair tickling his cheek.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into his ear, and his eyes closed shut. When she parted away from him, she placed a kiss on his cheek and mumbled a thank you. Johan tipped his head and left, finding himself unable to speak.
It was only when he settled into the car that he tore the covering paper from the canvas and gazed at the sight before him.
She had drawn him a self portrait, behind the wheel of his prized car. One arm lazily hung out of the window, the other on the wheel and staring straight ahead.
Johan noticed the infamous initials at the bottom of the painting and smiled. If not her, he had a piece of her which would remain invaluable to him forever.
***
A/N: No snippet today, but rather a link for those who are interested/were previously reading a past story of mine.
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