Artistic Hands
AN: Lately, I feel like I'm on a roll. All the stuff I write may not necessarily be good, but at least I'm writing!
I'm dabbling in yet another fandom – the Mortal Instruments series, by Cassandra Clare. I've only read the first book, City of Bones, and therefore do not know what happens in the others – so this might be off from the canon. Just thought of it when I read about Alec saying both Clary and Jace had 'artistic talent'.
Disclaimer: I do not own City of Bones. All characters belong to Ms. Cassandra Clare.
When Alec said it, he laughed and walked off, thinking nothing of it.
But Clary can't help but think he's right. They both do have artistic hands, after all.
She uses her hands to shape and create lines, images, sensations. She wields a pencil with a practiced eye, and she is happiest when she is sketching.
He uses his hands – his fingers – to touch the plastic keys of the instrument gently, more gently than he's ever touched a person before. He presses keys and creates sound, music, creates emotions out of nowhere. He doesn't play any piece in particular, not really knowing how to play the thing professionally, but his efforts still sound sweet.
Her nature is more mellow and dreamy than his – her drawings reflect that. Soft strokes, blurred lines – she very rarely presses the pencil down to create a sharp, bold line. But he – he is cool, contained, mischievous. And yet he is able to coax such melodious music from the piano.
She draws because every time she touches pencil to paper, she remembers – her dark hair tied up in a knot, graphite pencil carelessly struck through the arrangement and eyes wide with excitement at tackling a new painting. She smells oil paints and remembers her mother.
He doesn't play the piano anymore. Because whenever he even thinks of tentatively picking out a melody on those smooth ivory keys, he remembers his father.
AN: Wow. Didn't quite come out as I imagined it, but I still kind of like it.
235 words.