Pandora only showed her face when she wanted things from him. As an artist always looking for inspiration, he couldn't deny her. He loathed her just as much as he obsessed over her. She would always be his dark lady, even with her golden locks. She showed when he thought he needed her the least, reminding him of how much he'd been missing out in the world recently. It had become a cave his home since the events plagued the city. Will had wrapped himself up inside himself, still trying to write that perfect piece. Something new and fresh for the world to see, but he always came out empty handed. The world had taken so much from him, he was always scraping the bottom of the barrel.
She was stunning as always presented like a package he needed to unwrap. William had always looked at her inner soul, which he had grown to hate. Her beauty however trumped what he knew her to be---and he was a puddle at her feet.
"You look stunning," he paid his compliments, but knew there was more brewing behind the visit. "What ails you Pandora?@ he'd asked her before, this time he'd fish for the answer with a bigger hook.