A/N: Well, I abandoned the idea I was working on a few days ago in a fit of madness brought on by reading too much Edmondia Dantes. She does that to me and I FREAKED OUT to find out that she writes for kingdom hearts as well XD Anywhoo, this was the result, based on a painting of the same name. Short and sweet and very, very different. But perhaps different is good, yes?
The model was beautiful. Of course, he had never worked with one that wasn't, but she was perfect for what he wanted, he was sure. Her face and nose were long and angled in a way that was pleasing, lips full and dark, eyes deeply set and honeyed, the color rich enough to turn violet in the light of the setting sun that filtered in through the window. Her blond hair reflected the heavy light in a shimmering red and was loosely bound to the back of her head in a way that created still movement in patterned waves and made the edges of her face soft. The effect was why he had chosen her in the first place. Somewhere in the lines and shapes that give a stranger their first impressions, she had the look of an artist.
Her dress had been chosen carefully for its patterns and texture and fullness about the arms. The fabric flexed in rich lights and darks and he was a master of his craft but each painting required new proof. He had gathered everything he saw in his mind, the flower, the bird, the violin, the wall was draped with fabric, the model seated at the small desk, everything was ready, and yet...
And yet it still wasn't right.
He moved the yellow daffodils from where they threaded through the cage bars, to the desk, he moved the fan from the desk to the model's belt, he made her hold the violin three different ways before hanging it on the wall in front of her...
Still nothing!
He couldn't see the abstract concept he was so determined (not to mention being commissioned) to capture.
And through the man's insistent shuffling of objects and positioning, the model sat patiently. For the most part.
He couldn't see it.
He couldn't see it.
He couldn't see it.
He couldn't see it.
The woman tilted her head and her mind drifted. He could tell by the way her eyes became unfocused-
There!
He yelled for her to hold the pose and it was loud and demanding and startled her so badly that she jerked her head forward, eyes snapping into focus again..
The painter cussed at her and her eyes hardened to a dangerous degree, causing him to stop and offer hasty apologies. That had been it, exactly what he was looking for. He couldn't afford to have her walk away.
Eventually the tension in her shoulders relaxed and the man instructed, pleaded, cajoled. Arch your neck. Tilt your face. Head back further, good. Look off into the distance. Yes, I know there's nothing there but the wall. Pretend.
"What are you looking for?" she asked once, becoming impatient again with his continuous shifting and fiddling but the answer hardly reassured her.
"Your soul."