She reluctantly pulled away from his arms and took a small sip from her glass while he uncovered the next painting. This one showed her face, tilted up as she drank from a glass very much like the one she now held. Her eyes were closed, her throat long and graceful as it arched back. The frame stopped just beneath her shoulders, and because they were bare, she appeared to be naked. Tiny bubbles were flowing in the glass, and in front of them she could just guess the reflection of a silhouette. Owen, she guessed.
She glanced at him, her gaze questioning. This could have represented a couple of occasions, and she wasn't sure which in particular, if any, it was depicting. As soon as he explained, though, the answer was obvious, and she could only berate herself for not guessing at once.
"My show," he said simply.
Her eyes returned to the painting. She could see it now. "Your show. Yes." Memories started drifting to the front of her mind. That had been a few months after she had broken up with Jack.
"The show you wanted me so much to do," Owen said.
She finished his thought. "The show you did in exchange for a date with me."
An impish grin graced his lips. "I wanted to ask you out, but I didn't want you to have a chance to say no. Did you ever tell Renee how you convinced me in the end?"
She laughed, her discomfort from moments earlier truly forgotten. "Never. I figured that way she'd keep thinking she needed me if she wanted to keep you with the gallery."
He snorted. "It's truer than you think."
He turned his gaze to the painting again, and she watched him. There was something on his face she couldn't quite place, an emotion she couldn't name.
"All these moments so far are special," she said, "meaningful. What does this one mean to you?"
He smiled. "That was the first time I wondered what it'd be like to turn you."
Swallowing hard, she detailed his features, and wondered whether she could ask the question that had nagged her since he had first asked to turn her into a vampire. She hadn't dared ask, unsure whether his answer might influence her decision. Now that she had made up her mind, however, and as he seemed to be in a sharing mood, she thought she could try to ask.
"Have you ... have you ever turned anyone before?"
She had caught hints, a couple of times, that he had lived with someone for a long time, but she didn't know if the woman had been human or vampire.
"No," he said quietly, his eyes finding hers again. "I can't say I've bitten many people over the years, and none I would have wanted next to me for more than a few hours."
His free hand found hers, and he brought it to his lips. The soft kiss to the inside of her wrist made her shiver.
"You..." The words were low, but full of strength. "I want you next to me for a few centuries at least."
A flash of heat ran through Lydia, and she held her breath, waiting for the nervousness to take hold of her again. It didn't. It wouldn't, she realized, not anymore.
)
As Daisy slowly starts to accept that the seer Sam Woods might not be a fraud after all, Lydia volunteers to get a glimpse of her future. Her boyfriend Jack is not too pleased by this, and as Lydia's vision unfolds, it appears that he was right to worry. Time has passed and broken Jack and Lydia apart, leaving Lydia in the arms of an artist, Owen. On a special Halloween night, he reminds her of their journey together through eight paintings before transforming her life by making her what he is--a vampire.
