Even with a lack of empathy, Kayden could feel the mood shifting. Yet, he didnât say anything but decided to listen. Soft hums fell from his lips, emphasizing that he was listening. Losing a friend must be hard, not that Kayden knew, but he knew that it would kill him to lose his twin, so maybe it was a similar feeling.
âSave him? From what? From death?â Kayden asked, maybe a little too curiously. The artist shrugged a little bit. âIâm not scared of death though. So donât overthink it too much. Iâm not planning on leaving this planet so soon.â A mischievous grin stretched on Kaydenâs lips while he nudged his shoulder against Coriâs. âMuch more important is that I feel jealous that you sat as a model for someone else.â There, he said it. Kayden huffed. âNext time, you sit for me. But I wonât paint you, I want to sculpt a bust of you.â
"To be fair, this was centuries before your birth, Kayden."
He smiled at the mortal before squeezing his hand.
"But I'll sit for you anytime that you would like. Glasses off. Just me. And only a bust. I was well endowed by my maker you know. He was very generous."
He chuckled softly.
"At least I've had no complaints."
He pondered though.
"I wonder how these things got here though. This collection. It's very much filled with dreams and nightmares."













