AN: This is just a quick one-shot I wrote because I love art and I wanted to write something different. I listened to the soundtrack of Inception, Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator Speech and Beyonce's Why Don't You Love Me while writing this. This is unbeta'd.
An Artists Flaw
Full Summary: When we love, we love deeply, passionately, and with our whole heart. It's an artists flaw, allowing passion to spread into every faucet of our lives. I can't say that I have never regretted something in my life, don't regret her. I never could and I never will. So don't ask me to. Lust, Passion, the spiraling, dancing lines that create a masterpiece. Two artists, one dinner party, no turning back.
FFN Summary: When we love, we love deeply and passionately. It's an artists flaw, allowing passion to spread into every faucet of our lives. I can't say that I have never regretted something in my life don't regret her. I never could and I never will. ExB Mature.
My hand flew over the page, everything but the paper and the pencil in my hand disappearing. What had once been blank started to grow and mold into both light and dark grey shapes. It flowed seamlessly from my mind, branching out through my spine, down my arms, searing through the tips of my fingers to shoot through my pencil to burn the page with an unforgettable image.
The things that could emerge from sketches were amazing. The spiraling, dancing movements of my hand, the rotation of my wrist, it could bring out the most subtle touches to the most bold lines.
My bottom lip was rolled further into my mouth, my teeth nibbling on it in an effort to ground and control me.
"Are you listening to me?"
My head shot up and I barely held back a sigh. I hated being dragged from my mind, from my imagination, to make idle chit chat, but my sister had insisted that I leave my loft and join her for a picnic in the nearby park.
"I'm sure it wasn't that interesting," I told her, my fingers impatiently tapping on my leg, my gut begging me to draw out every ounce of inspiration from inside of me so that the spark would not diminish before I had given everything I had wished to give. My sister, Elizabeth, tucked one of her red curls, the color between red copper and rust, behind her ear as she looked at me with disapproval. Elizabeth and I were very similar in looks. Both of us cursed with our stark, copper hair, olive green eyes and pale skin. We had both managed to escape having freckles on our faces, but my back was covered in them.
"You should get yourself a girlfriend," she mused, "maybe then you would actually live outside of your head."
I scoffed at the notion. "I am an artist. My mind is where my creativity and imagination lie. I don't have time to waste with fickle girls who do not understand me or my work."
She rolled her eyes, "Baby brother, you are only twenty-seven, not forty. Stop acting so arrogant." I scowled at her use of reminding me that I was the 'baby' of the two of us. She liked to rub in the fact that she was twenty-nine and so above me.
"Don't call me that and as I said before, I do not have time for dating. I'm not good at it anyway." I stated stubbornly.
She pursed her lips together unhappily and a little pucker appeared between her eyebrows as she thought hard. I let my gaze drop back to my sketch, my eyes tracing the lines and my mind creating new paths to improve what was already there. "When was the last time you got laid?" she finally asked.
I didn't look up as the tips of my ears turned a delicate rose color, belaying my indifference with embarrassment. "I do not feel comfortable giving details of my sex life to you," I told her, in what I hoped was a firm voice. I didn't need to see her face to know that a smirk was slowly making its way across her face.
"That long, huh?" she asked, her tone holding a note of nonchalance.
I let out a long breath through my nose and let my eyes fall closed minutely to try and pull back on the edges of my annoyance. My jaw clenched tightly and I looked up at her, my eyes narrowed. "Butt out of my life Liz," I said warningly. She held up her hands in a surrendering motion, but I could tell that there was something underneath her talk of sex and girlfriends that she carefully skirting around.
"Why do you suddenly care anyway?" I asked suspiciously.
Her eyes widened in false innocence, " I have no idea what you are talking about." I folded my arms over my chest and sat back, finally giving her my full attention.
"Spit it out or I'll tell Alistair about the time you made out with his cousin." Her mouth fell open in shock, not quite believing that I would actually tell her fiance about her drunken kiss with Makenna, his-now happily married-cousin.
"You wouldn't," she said her voice wavering in uncertainty. I raised an eyebrow in challenge, silently asking her to push it so she would find out. Her face twisted in a scowl before settling in a pout. "I hate you," she muttered sulkily. I smirked, wondering if I could push her a little further by pointing out her childish behavior.
My eyes darted back to my sketchpad, wondering if I had time to capture more of the image ingrained in my mind before she thawed out of her sulk.
"I'm having a dinner party tonight," she perked up just as I had made the decision to go for it. A grimace involuntarily twisted on my lips as I thought of the implications of that sentence. Every few months my sister insisted on playing hostess and invited all her friends over where they would sip champagne or Chardonnay and talk about where to send their kids to school or the rise/fall of the stock market. It wasn't exactly my idea of a good time.
"Yeah...I have a prior engagement," I told her, trying to sound convincing. The look she gave me told me that she saw through my lie and that she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Come on," I whined, knowing already that I would be forced to put on a happy face and act like the doting brother she wished I could naturally be.
Her bottom lip wobbled and her widened eyes teared up as they pleaded unrelentingly. You would think that after over two decades of the same look I would be immune, but it simply against human nature, or at least a gentleman's nature, to allow a woman to cry even if it is to manipulate them.
"Fine," I growled out from between my teeth and her face immediately transformed into one of gleeful happiness. She clapped her hands together and bounced up and down, causing the sun to shine on her hair in different angles, creating a look of live fire. She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around me tightly.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she squealed and I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help let the edges of my lips twitch up into the beginning of a smile. "You don't have to a thing but show up and look nice. She'll love you just the way you are-"
"Wait, wait, wait, hold the damn phone. She?" I interrupted. She backed away from me slowly, gauging my reaction to her slip.
"You remember Isa and Marie, right?" she asked timidly. I looked at her blankly, not wanting to believe my ears.
"No, I really don't," I said shortly.
Liz looked at me from under her long, ebony eyelashes and played with the hem of her canary yellow dress. "You were probably too young to remember, but Marie was my best friend when we lived in Bourne and we recently got back in touch through Facebook. She has a younger sister around your age called Isa and they are both coming to my dinner party tonight. Isa's new here and doesn't know anyone and I think the two of you would get along great together. From what Marie has told me she's single, pretty and is also going through a dry season."
I snorted derisively, "You want me to hook up with your friends younger sister? Come on Liz!" I was actually insulted that she would, within good conscious try and set me up with some poor, unsuspecting girl just to sleep with her.
"No," she argued. "I'm not asking you to sleep with her. I'm just asking you to her make feel welcome. To not just see her as 'fickle' and ignore her. I'm asking you to make an effort." I looked away from her, my insides bubbling and burning inside me, venom readying itself to coat my words. I stayed silent, hating the position she had placed me in.
"Edward," she murmured quietly, "I worry about you. Ever since mum and dad died you've retreated further into yourself. You no longer want company, or comfort. You just hide away in your loft painting. Your eyes don't smile anymore and you constantly look tired. You refuse to talk to me properly anymore. I just want you to be you again."
She sounded so sad and lost that I felt guilt wash over me. I had thought that I was hiding it, but it seemed she could see through the carefully constructed facade I had made for myself.
Our parents death had been hard on the both of us. Our father was a lawyer and our mother was a teacher. Liz had followed in our fathers footsteps and they had been so proud, but I...I had been the disappointment. Art was not career, according to my father, you couldn't support yourself let alone anyone else with it. We had spent years arguing about my choices, driving a rift between us.
Their death had been so sudden, so quick, that I could barely comprehend that it had happened. All I could remember was the shouting, the mean words, the tears, the pain, that the last few years had been filled with. I couldn't understand why they couldn't simply except me for who I was. Why they had to die, to leave me, when I needed them. I needed to prove to them that art was my vice, but every chance was wiped away within a blink of an eye.
Liz had immediately stepped in to help me and encouraged me to live by what I loved. With my fingers wrapped around wood and lead and with pressed it into what was once void, creating something beyond what the natural eye could see, erased the guilt and the shame. It was just me and my tangled emotions pouring themselves out, it was therapy in its purest form.
I looked up at Liz to see unshed tears in her eyes. I pulled her to me, cradling her to my chest. "I'm fine Liz. I'll come to your dinner party tonight and I will behave like a complete gentleman. You won't even recognize me." She lifted her tear stained face up and I gave her a weak smile. She nodded and pulled herself out of my arms.
"Gosh, I'm a mess," she muttered as she rooted through her Ink black bag and pulled out a tissue. We were silent as she got herself together and as we cleared up our picnic.
"So you'll come tonight?" she asked as she turned to go. I nodded, pulling my messenger bag over my head. "On time," she clarified and I hesitated slightly.
"I'll try, but I can't make any promises."
(())(())(())(())(())
I stood my fingers wrapped around a cool glass of champagne as my eyes took in the room. I had managed to arrive only ten minutes late wearing a navy blue and white striped shirt with black pants, vans and a skinny tie. I pulled out my Iphone, quickly scrolling through all my unanswered e-mails, hoping that Liz wouldn't spot me.
I glanced up to check that I had gone unnoticed only to see two women enter the room. My mouth went dry as my eyes took in the one on the left. Her dress, a strapless turquoise shimmering cocktail dress that with every move looked like she was a living ocean, the waves rolling gently, caressing her alabaster skin. Her delicate feet were incased in peep-toed sliver heels and she held a matching clutch in her hand. A quiet tinkling brought to my attention the sliver bangles resting on her wrist, even her nails had been painted sliver.
Her hair was up in what I would guess was a loose bun. The contrast of the messy, stray, russet curls falling down her neck and the mahogany of her overall hair was any artists dream.
Her body turned towards me slightly and I caught a glimpse of wide, chestnut eyes, framed by long, ebony eyelashes. Perfectly formed pearl teeth dug nervously into garnet colored lips. Everything about her demeanor was shy and unassuming and I couldn't not let my eyes trace each inch of her body, covered and uncovered.
My mind flew to sketches I could draw of her, of uncovered skin and pleasure. I could nearly feel the silk of her skin underneath my fingertips and the heat of her breath against my neck as I hovered over her. Would she scream with her release or would she sigh? Were her nipples coral, rose or russet? Would her nails dig tantalizingly into my skin as I enveloped myself into the silk furnace between her legs?
I could almost feel her heartbeat surrounding me, pulsing in want and desire, as her swollen lips formed my name.
I sucked in a sharp breath as I shook the thoughts out of my head. Her eyes flickered around the room until they met mine staring hungrily at her. The corners of her lips twitched as a soft blush blossomed on her cheeks. She looked away coyly before glancing back at me.
"Edward." My gaze snapped to my sister who stood next to me, one of her black, heeled shoes tapping on the ground in annoyance. Realizing that I still had my Iphone out I quickly put it back into my pocket. "Sister, you look beautiful," I replied easily. She was dressed in a lilac, ruffled dress that complement her skin perfectly. I gave her my best smile and she rolled her eyes, letting me off the hook.
"Isa and Marie have arrived. I want you to meet them." She gave me a pointed look before I could protest and I sighed. I threw one more look over to where the goddess had stood, only to find that she was gone. I halfheartedly followed Liz over to where a tall, brunette, who's legs seemed to go on for miles. She wore an Onyx dress, which wrapped tightly around her curves, accenting them.
Liz squealed as soon she saw her and they hugged and shared air kisses as they gushed together.
"Edward," Liz said, finally pulling away, "this is Marie." I leaned forwards, placing air kisses on each side of her face politely. "Liz has spoke so much about you," I said, playing the part of the perfect brother. She smiled, "Oh I'm sure she did. The things we used to get up to when we were younger..." She trailed off with a giggle.
"Can I ask what is so funny?" a low, husky, feminine voice asked. I turned to see my goddess standing there, one beautifully sculptured eyebrow raised. "Isa, let me introduce you to Liz's younger brother Edward," Marie gushed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Delighted," Isa murmured, her voice seemingly dripping with desire.
"Enchanted," I murmured back, leaning forward, one hand resting lightly on her waist as my lips brushed against each cheek. I had to hold back a moan at just how soft her skin was and the scent of violets and lavender that surrounded seemed only to ignite me further. I pulled back reluctantly, "Would you like a drink?" I asked her politely and she smiled softly.
"That would be lovely."
I backed away slowly before turning and disappearing into the crowd. I quickly poured two glasses of champagne before making my way back to her. I handed her the glass and she took a small sip, parting her lips around the rim as the bubbly liquid swept past them. "Would you like to go out on the balcony? It's getting a little bit crowded in here and I can barely hear myself." The words were out of my mouth before I had even made the conscious decision to say them.
She hummed and her eyes held a familiar spark. "Yes, I'm feeling a little...hot in here." I felt my lips turn up into a smirk as I placed a hand in the small of her back and lead her gently out onto the balcony. Thankfully it was empty. She leaned on the balcony wall, peering out into the distance, taking small sips of champagne every so often. I stood beside her just taking everything in.
The view from my sister's apartment was beautiful, with lights dotted through the darkness. The quiet sound of motors as they drove by was soothing and a faint breeze wrapped around us. Isa shivered slightly and I wished I had brang a jacket to wrap around her.
"What do you do for a living?" I asked casually, even if it I felt anything but. I had always found the subject of vocation important when meeting someone who could be potentially more than just acquaintance. How the person presented their showed you if they loved their job or if they had just so that they could make money. She looked over at me, her pointer finger running around the rim of her glass. Her lips curled up and a small chuckle escaped her lips.
"It really depends who you ask. If you ask my father, he would tell you that I waste my time for a living. If you ask my sister what I do for a living, she'll tell you I write. But if you asked me, well, I'd tell you that I create."
I grinned widely at her. "Ah, a fellow artist. Have you ever written anything I would have read?"
She laughed and if I were to guess its color I would have said blue. "Do you like erotic murder mysteries?"
I cocked my head to the side and thought it over. "I hate to say it, but I haven't actually read anything I wasn't forced to in a long while."
She shook her head in an amused fashion. "What do you create?"
I hesitated slightly before talking, "I create what the eye sees. I create what could be and what has been."
"Draw or paint?" she asked.
"Draw mostly. I dabble in a bit of both," I replied before we sank back into silence. My eyes found themselves captivated by the arch of her neck. Her skin was such a clear alabaster that I could imagine running a wet paintbrush over her. Coloring what was once clear. I wondered if her body would taste as good as she smelled and if she would let me be a permanent fixture in her life.
"What are you thinking?" she asked suddenly and I looked up to see her eyes full of sincerity.
"Truthfully?" I asked cautiously, knowing that my words could offend her. She nodded and I let out a deep breath.
"I was wondering whether the skin of your neck would taste as good as you smell." I waited silently, wondering what her reaction would be. Her chestnut eyes darkened to chocolate.
"And have you come to a conclusion?" she asked quietly. I moved closer to her, thanking God that this woman had accepted me. I placed my hands on either side of her and ran my nose up the back of her neck.
"I'm a practical man Isa, I like to know, not to wonder." In a move, that was more daring than telling her my thoughts, I flattened my tongue on her neck and dragged it up slowly till I reached her ear. She gasped and shivered at my touch before ceasing to breath altogether. "Breathe, Isa," I murmured and she sucked in a shuddering breath.
"Do you do this to every women you seduce?" She asked quietly, looking over her shoulder at me, fire burning in her eyes, melting the chocolate into a cinnamon. I let out a small chuckle and felt the tips of my ears turn pink. "Actually, you're the first woman I have seduced in a while. Am I being too forward?"
She hummed noncommittally, "Maybe to some. But I find myself quite liking it." She turned to face me and I found our faces close.
"Have you thought of it?" she asked suddenly after a moment of silence, moving her face even closer, so that our lips were almost ghosting over each other. "Have you thought of what it would be like to have me naked underneath you. Merciless and bound by pleasure. I have. When I first saw you, all I could think about was you naked and sweating above me, under me, behind me. I'm not a little girl Edward. I am no delicate flower and I know that by the end of this night that you and I will be much better acquainted. But I have to ask you one thing. Is that it? Is that all you want from me?"
My eyelids fluttered as her breath washed over me and I tilted my head to ghost my lips over her jaw.
"I want everything. Yes, I want you in my bed, but not just for one night. I want you again and again until no one but me will be good enough to satisfy you. I want to draw you, I want to memorize you. I want to know everything there is that makes you who you are," I breathed and she pulled bak slightly before pressing her petal soft lips to mine and pulling me deeper into her.
Her hands threaded through my hair, gripping it tightly, as I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth. One of my hands cupped her neck while the other lay splayed over her hip and ass. "Yes," she whispered into my mouth as my tongue probed and received entrance. My eyes fell closed and it was like fireworks of colors danced behind them, celebrating the connection.
My erection that I had managed to keep concealed all evening pressed into her stomach, pulsing and throbbing with blood and desire. She moaned as I trailed my hand down from her neck, pausing briefly at her breast, until I reached the bare flesh of her thigh. I hitched her leg over my hip, forcing her further into me so that wasn't an inch of space between us.
Our lips separated for air and we stood there gasping for breath, desire simmering in the air.
"We should stop," I murmured as my eyes took in the rose colored tint of her skin that disappeared into her dress.
She shook her head, "No, we shouldn't." She tugged my head down so that her mouth was level to my ear. "Do you want me?" she asked and I nodded. "Then take me."
"I can't. There are-"
She smashed her lips to mine and all thoughts of the party and the fact that any could walk in on us vanished. I gripped her free leg and hoisted her up on the wall so that her back leaning on the railing. I pushed her dress up her thighs and ghosted a finger along the seam of her lace panties.
"Are you sure?" I asked as my fingers dipped underneath the fabric, brushing through the wet curls to reach hot, silken flesh. She whimpered longingly, letting her head fall back as her lips parted in a plea.
"Yes," she breathed and I circled her swollen clit.
"How long have you been wet for me Bella? Because I have been hard ever since I laid my eyes on you."
My fingers worked her, arousing her further as she panted. Her hands fumbled with my pants, unbuttoning them and pulling the zipper down before trailing her hand inside my boxers. Small, dainty finger wrapped around me and I buried my head in her shoulder. "Too long," I muttered. "If you want me to make it past this then you're going to have to let go."
She pouted and I pulled a condom out of my pocket. I was thankful that I hadn't ignored my sister and decide to take precautions.
"Hoping to get lucky?" she asked as she plucked it from my hands and rolled it on me. "You can never be too certain," I grunted as I pushed her panties aside and slid into her. She wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. Our eyes bore into each others as I started to move in slow, measured thrusts. Everything disappeared in that moment.
There was nothing and no one who could separate me from her in that moment. Our foreheads rested against each other's and we simply moved. There was nothing hurried or quick about what we were doing. We saluted the world with our bodies, with our minds, and-dare I say - with our hearts. Clarity hit like a wave crashing in the sea, she was the One.
There was no one else for me and I wanted to stay seated deep inside her forever.
We panted, groaned, and whimpered together as each thrust brought us closer to the edge. Her once perfectly stranded hair, feel down sloppily and darkened where sweat had touched it. It didn't take long before her walls collapsed around me, spasming, as I shuddered from my own orgasm. Her head fell back and her eyes fluttered as her lips formed an 'o' of surprise and pleasure.
A whimper, quiet in the still night escapes her and I groaned.
"I don't know what this is, but I don't want to stop," she whispered like it was a secret.
"I don't understand it either," I whispered back, "just don't leave me."
She shook her head, "Never."
AN: This was originally shorter, but it just kept on coming. I am not expanding this, so don't ask me to. Review!