05-10-2020, 01:41 AM
She contemplated the high arched ceilings and tried to stem the waiting deluge of uncertainty that suddenly mired her, for it quite suddenly seemed all varying degrees of a bad idea. Her hand was hurting again, thrumming in time with her heart. The swelling had eased, the dressing fresh, but she could not paint with it -- nor even much sketch, which was the whole reason she was even here. Her steps meandered a little, turning mostly small circles at the back of the pews. She lingered at the back of the small church, as if she needed the surety of the wide doors and a swift exit.
When next she looked up, her eyes widened. The swallow of her throat was dry. Not for the splendor of white and gold, or even the majesty of the composition he had framed himself within.
It was the face.
A little curl of insidious fear held her static for a moment; an old fear, one she had thought pressed far behind with the acceptance of what she had discovered herself to be. It seemed she still found the confrontation unsettling, though: a drawing brought breath and life.
Oh god, oh god.
“Oh,” she said. The colour drained a little. She stumbled inelegantly back through the doors before she'd quite realised she'd moved, and found herself blinking unexpectedly in the sunlight. Her heart fluttered panic like a trapped bird as she plopped down on the steps before her legs dumped her there, pulled her bag into her lap, and flicked through the blood-stained sketches Koit had bound like maybe she was wrong.
But he was right there, in black and white excruciating detail.
When next she looked up, her eyes widened. The swallow of her throat was dry. Not for the splendor of white and gold, or even the majesty of the composition he had framed himself within.
It was the face.
A little curl of insidious fear held her static for a moment; an old fear, one she had thought pressed far behind with the acceptance of what she had discovered herself to be. It seemed she still found the confrontation unsettling, though: a drawing brought breath and life.
Oh god, oh god.
“Oh,” she said. The colour drained a little. She stumbled inelegantly back through the doors before she'd quite realised she'd moved, and found herself blinking unexpectedly in the sunlight. Her heart fluttered panic like a trapped bird as she plopped down on the steps before her legs dumped her there, pulled her bag into her lap, and flicked through the blood-stained sketches Koit had bound like maybe she was wrong.
But he was right there, in black and white excruciating detail.