**Updated every Saturday**
He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and...
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"I don't know how you can be so brash, Aslo," Olivia said as she fluffed up her golden curls in the circular mirror hung above the Victorian fireplace in their living room. "There's something satisfying about executing an order with a certain amount of finesse, using only your words, rather than resorting to meddling with their memory."
In an inhuman blur of movements, she touched up her make-up, dabbing on blush and swiping her long eyelashes with mascara. I was fascinated as I watched her face in the mirror. She looked like one of those make-up tutorials being played in double time. Except for her, the starting point was already so much prettier than I could ever achieve.
Across the room, Aslo smirked as he sprawled on the corner sofa, funnelling ready salted crisps into his mouth. "How is it going with that artist, Olivia? Has he even noticed you yet?" he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm and an accent I'd found out was old Scandinavian.
Olivia gave a dismissive sniff as she checked herself out in the mirror. "Not yet, but he will," she finished before flitting from the living room with her head held high. I'd mistaken her confidence for arrogance, a narcissism born from her beauty, but now I saw it for what it actually was: confidence in her skills as a Watcher.
I turned towards Atticus where he sat on the new sofa beside me. It was just as plush as their other one, with thick, dove grey cushions and an expensive weave, but somehow it had been saved from Aslo's crisp crumbs.
"Why does he have to notice her?" I asked. Ever since the incident involving Nightmare, and the subsequent conversation, I'd slowly gotten to know the other two Watchers. As I did, I'd asked a hundred or more questions just like this one.
As always, Atticus answered while Aslo turned his attention back to the TV and tossed the empty crisp packet onto the floor with the others.
"Sometimes our orders are big and other times they're something small, like painting a masterpiece."
It seemed silly to send a Watcher to instigate something so creative. "So just tell him to paint?" I said as if I was stating the obvious.
Atticus' lips lifted into a knowing smile. "It's not that easy. That kind of art needs more than talent. It needs a muse, an emotion."
Olivia flashed back into the room with a cream, floppy blouse and tan, suede skirt that made her toned legs seemed even longer than before. Neither would do anything against the winter cold outside or leave much to the imagination.
"Humans do some of their best work when they're in love. Whether that's with an idea or a person," she said as she pulled on a pair of boots with heels high enough to close the four-inch height difference between us. Her outfit was perfectly calculated to show off her assets.
"You're going to make him fall in love with you just so he'll paint a picture?" I asked, casting a glance at Aslo and Atticus for some confirmation that her actions were as extreme as I thought; neither of them reacted.
