My chest tightens as I look into Aiden's intense amber eyes. This is the first time that Aiden shares his feelings, and I feel like my heart is about to break.

Why is he looking at me with so much sadness in his eyes?

Why is his vulnerability breaking him?

Why is he looking at me like I would leave him anytime?

"What do you feel about me?" I ask.

Aiden doesn't answer. I can see the pain crossing his expression.

I remember everything his therapist, Mr. Bennett, said.

I know that Aiden is slowly breaking down all his walls, and tears threaten to fall from my eyes.

I feel so much joy, thinking that Aiden's heart isn't frozen anymore. But the sight of Aiden looking so broken hurts me. There's still a part of him that doubt everything that's happening between us.

He's still afraid. Terrified.

I take a step closer to him. "I want to know everything you feel for me."

A mixture of alert and disbelief crosses Aiden's expression, as if he can't believe that he just made me say something like this.

"You don't want to," he says.

It's not that I don't want to, Aiden. It's you who are afraid to admit it.

I want to see the real Aiden. I want to see the man who cried at the altar for hours that night when Olivia went away. I want all this man's heart, one that made me cry with him too.

I will never destroy his heart like that woman did. I will cherish it, and if possible, heal all the wounds in it, if he allows me to.

"Can I ask you something again?" I whisper.

Aiden is silent, still locking his gaze with mine.

"Why would you say that some of the things you feel for me are bad?"

I hear no answer for him, so I add, "They can't be that bad."

Aiden's jaw tightens. "You should be afraid of me, of these feelings inside me. You should tell me to stop. You should kill these feelings--"

"I will never do that," I cut him off.

I plaster a warm smile on my face. He, on the other hand, looks confused, unsure of what I meant by that.

"These feelings that you said are bad for me, are they good for you?" I ask softly.

Aiden seems to be at a loss for words. Silent passes for a few more seconds before I say with all my heart, "Paint me then."

This time, it's my voice that's shaking. But it's not because I'm afraid of him. It's because I realize how much I want him too.

I want all of his heart, and to do that, I'm going to give him all of mine first.

"Paint me and feel them again," I say with so much determination in my voice.

I know how broken Aiden Klein had been, but it's time for him to let go. There's nothing he should worry about because it's with me this time.

I'm going to give him all of me before he does.

My heart beats rapidly, warning me of how dangerous my thought is, and how much pain is waiting for me if all of this goes wrong.

But I want to have faith despite the darkness waiting around the corner. I'm going to let myself fall into this pit first even though it may be really harsh at the bottom.

Maybe I won't be able to survive this fall. And maybe, Aiden is not going to follow me at all.

But I have to take the jump first, for him.

I stand in the middle of Aiden's art room, facing Aiden, who's sitting on a stool with his canvas.

I'm trying so hard to prevent my legs from shaking. I'm so nervous, it's killing me. But I have to do this, and I have to make Aiden believe that I'm not afraid.

"Take a seat," he says, avoiding my gaze.

I sit on another stool, watching as he prepares the color palette. He clears his throat before moving the current canvas aside. He takes a new one to start painting me, but I quickly say, "Don't change it."

Slowly, Aiden looks up at me.

I swallow. "Let's just continue with the one you've been working on."

Aiden stares at me, and I know that he doesn't agree. The current painting of me is too vulgar for him to continue with me here posing as his model.

"But--"

I stand up from the stool, locking his gaze with mine. "Please," a whisper comes out of my trembling lips.

I want to know this side of Aiden. I want to know all of his feelings for me. I want all of him.

I want him to break free, to melt his frozen heart, to unleash the fiery side of him. I want him to look at me in the same way he looked at her. God, even now, the thought of his ex-lover makes me restless.

The next thing I know is that I'm doing something I'd never expected myself to do. I take a deep breath, sliding my cardigan off my shoulders slowly. It drops onto the floor with a soft thud, leaving me in my tank top.

I'm not breaking my eye contact with Aiden, who looks like he's in agony. I want to take his pain away.

"Nevaeh," he warns.

I let out a shaky breath. "Please," I say. "I want you to finish that painting of me. If you--" I have to stop talking to calm myself down for a while. "If you need my help to finish it, I'll do it."

Aiden shakes his head. "You don't know what you're doing."

"I do," I quickly say.

Maybe I look stupid right now, but there's no turning back. I think I'm going to break if he refuses me.

"I know what I'm doing."

Come on, Nevaeh. Don't cry.

Aiden throws me a piercing gaze that makes my heart kick up a notch. "Are you sure about this?"

I nod slowly before adding in a small voice, "Yes."

I watch as the muscles on Aiden's neck move. He places the new canvas down and puts the unfinished painting back in place.

With one last questioning look, he silently asks me if I want to do this. I nod again.

He returns his gaze to the canvas with a serious expression, as though he's criticizing his own work. Then he looks at me again. A few seconds of silence pass.

"I need you to..." he falters. His eyes are set on my body, making heat travel to every inch of my skin. "I need you to take your top off."

My hands are trembling. I've never exposed my body this much. Even when I go swimming, I usually wear a one-piece suit instead of a bikini like what Sienna told me to wear.

My heart is racing when I take off my tank top, which then lands on the floor with my cardigan. I'm in my bra and skirt now.

Aiden glances at me and returns his focus to the painting. I catch him swallowing again, but he's still maintaining a professional attitude.

While I want him to show me his true emotion -- his desire -- I wonder if this is going to work. What if it turns out that I'm not that beautiful to him?

My insecurity suddenly consumes me. I'm aware that I'm not like those beautiful supermodels, while Aiden, can actually get one if he wants.

I haven't even grown into a woman either. I'm just a teenager, and my body might look unattractive compared to a fully blossomed woman's. Oh, God, those women are so beautiful with their full breasts, curves, and round hips, while I--

"Your skirt," Aiden's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, startling me.

He glances at me again and keeps painting. Knowing what he meant, I squeeze my eyes shut and take another deep breath. I pull the zipper of my skirt down, causing it to pool around my ankles.

Now, I'm standing here in only my underwear. I don't wear anything fancy tonight, just a set of black bra and panties.

I brace myself to look up at Aiden, and my breath catches in my throat. He's staring at me with a look so intense, that I even feel like he's about to cry.

He tears his gaze away from me and swipes his brush over the canvas again. A few moments pass in excruciating silence, and my heart feels like it's about to explode.

That one look from him makes me think that whatever it is I want him to let out, it's approaching. I'm slowly breaking it.

Aiden lets out a sigh of frustration, and, to my surprise, places his brush down. Without looking at me, he says in a low voice, "Take everything off."

This time, I start to worry. There will be no turning back. Even though it has taken a lot of courage for me to be at this point -- posing for him with only my underwear -- the next step I'm going to take is such a huge step for me.

I'll be completely bare, in front of him.

This isn't only about him. It's about me, about accepting myself as I am, about letting him see all of me, whether he likes what he sees or not.

I've never thought that I'd be this impulsive. He hasn't even laid a finger on my clothes. I'm the one peeling them off. What is happening to me?

I fix my gaze on the floor because I'm too shy, and too embarrassed, to look at Aiden. Carefully, I unclasp my bra, exposing my breasts to him.

Everything is silent. There's no reaction from him.

The silence is killing me, but then I remember what Aiden said.

He wanted me to take everything off.

My heart pounds so hard. I'm fully aware that all of this will lead to something I've been saving for my entire life.

Am I really ready to give him my all?

How ironic. Just one look at him being vulnerable and opening up about his feelings tonight has made me do something this crazy.

I've never felt these kinds of emotions for anyone before. What I feel for Aiden is so strong, maybe I'll really suffer the consequences one day.

But I don't care about that now.

My fingers curl around the material of my panties, ready to slide them down.

"Stop. That's enough," Aiden's firm voice echoes in the room.

I look up to see him. His eyes are not on me. Instead, they're on his canvas.

"That's enough," he repeats in a painful whisper, still averting his gaze from me.

My chest heaves up and down. His too.

I watch as he shuts his eyes. He's gripping the paintbrush so tightly with his shaking hand. Then he drops it out of anger and frustration, causing the sound to echo loudly in the room.

Aiden shoots me a menacing look, and I freeze on the spot. All the air in my lungs feels like being sucked.

"Fuck this painting," he speaks through gritted teeth, kicking the leg of the easel that it falls along with the painting.

He storms in my direction, and before I know what's happening, he cups my face, crashing his lips into mine.