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No Singing Allowed
Luna bounces around the studio, the stereo close to blaring in the corner of the room. Having connections with the art department of uni is a godsend. Any time Dr. Krause isn't instructing, he gives Luna free reign of the studio. She can paint, carve, sculpt, sketch. Hell, she can even sew.
This is Luna's sanctuary, where she goes to escape the world. Few people know about her special privileges (one, so they won't bother her, and two, because Dr. Krause probably shouldn't give her as much freedom as he does). So Luna can always hide here and enjoy life.
Today she is working on a painting (as she is apt to do). Adopting a Jackson Pollock style into her own, Luna splatters a few colors over her current work, layering the abstract looks. "I think I've finally had enough," she sings along to the stereo, mimicking P!nk's voice to the best of her ability. "I think I maybe think too much, I think this might be it for us."
Luna dips the tip of her paintbrush in a neon green, adding a few delicate strokes of vibrant color to add contrast. Art is her passion, her escape. No matter how one approaches art, it's never wrong. Art is anything and everything all at once. When she practices art, all of her inhibitions leave her.
"Just when it can't get worse, I've had a shit day (NO!)" Luna nods to the beat, swaying as she paints. "Have you had a shit day?" she sings.
Surprising her, another voice answers. "NO!"
Spinning fast, Luna's paint flies off her paintbrush and splatters on the canvas and her. Later, she notes this looks pretty good. Neville is leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "We've had a shit day," Luna continues singing between giggles.
Neville throws his head back and laughs, strolling across the room with his hands in his front pockets. She smiles at him, reaching over to turn the dial on the stereo down a tad. "Blow me one last kiss," Neville murmurs in Luna's ear to the tune.
Luna turns to oblige, but he catches her lips with his in a real kiss. The smile on Luna's lips is uncontrollable as she kisses him back. Absentmindedly, Luna remembers all the paint on her hands and steps back, not wanting to ruin his shirt with rainbow handprints. Luna raises her hands and wiggle her fingers as explanation.
He only rolls his eyes. Neville settles into a chair near Luna, watching as she goes back to work. He does this often—coming by just to watch Luna create. For some reason unbeknownst to her, he finds it interesting. "So is that why no one else sticks around when you work?" he quips.
Luna's pale eyebrows furrow, brushstrokes becoming lighter. "What do you mean?"
"That lovely musical performance," he comments teasingly.
Dropping her brush in the water cup, Luna spins to squint at him. Rainbow hands go to her apron-covered hips. "And what does that mean?"
Neville smiles cheekily. "C'mon, babe, you know."
"No I don't know," she huffs.
Neville's eyes soften a little when he senses her sincerity. "Well, um, I just find your singing cute is all."
Luna raises an eyebrow judgingly. "Are you making fun of my singing?"
"Never." The sarcastic hint in his tone tips her off.
"You are!" she accuses, pointing a finger at him. "Not everyone can have an angelic voice like you, Nev."
He laughs, standing up. "Babe," he reaches for Luna's waist, pulling her closer to him. Grudgingly, she lets him.
"What do you think my voice sounds like?" she asks, snippy.
His eyes widen. "Honestly?" Luna nods. "You won't kill me?" She nods again. "Seriously?"
"Just tell me, dammit!"
Neville giggles. "Fine. You know how Adele sounds in 'Rolling in the Deep'? All smooth and bluesy?" Luna nods, starting to blush. "Nothing like that," Neville teases.
She pushes back from him, playfully socking him in the arm. "Dick," she grumbles, turning the music back up and going back to painting.
A few moments later, Neville's arms circle her waist from behind. He rests his chin on Luna's shoulder, lips at her ear. "I'm just playing with you, babe." He presses a warm kiss to her neck. "What you lack in singing, you make up for in art. A thousand times over." He kisses Luna again, trailing from her shoulder to her ear.
"You're forgiven," Luna says, painting a blue streak down Neville's nose, much to his dismay.