Vanity: A Story of Love and Betrayal
Disclaimer: I do not own The Winx Club, Icarus's Wings or The Portrait of Dorian Gray.
Chapter One: Vanity
At first Helia was going to refuse Stella's request. Why would anyone need a 50 by 50 painting of herself? It didn't take long for Stella to convince him, he needed the money. He didn't have a steady income since he quit the Specialists. He was a pacifist and ignored his beliefs for too long. It came with a price. Helia had expenses. Helia had a girlfriend. He needed money. Pursuing a career as an artist was what he was supposed to be doing anyway. Stella was giving him his chance to make it big.
"Sit by the window, I should be done in three sunsets."
Stella yawns and pouts a little. "I certainly hope so. I lost a lot of beauty sleep for this."
When Helia went to his easel, he began to study her: her long blonde hair, perfect face, golden eyes, and sun-kissed skin. She was unreal. Stella's nose was perfectly straight with a slight point, it was always in the air. It was like she was born to be above everyone else. There was no formula that could emulate Stella's hair. It probably felt like silk. Those eyes, there was no way he could capture them. They held such fire and laughter. Her skin had no blemish or imperfection. It was unfair to humanity, a species supposedly made up of imperfect beings. She was the girl women die to emulate. Why had he never noticed? Helia swallowed the lump in his throat and placed his brush into the paint. Helia took his time. It took a while to duplicate Stella's natural colors. He began with delicate, but fast strokes. Helia fought to keep his concentration. It was a struggle to try not to dwell on her slender neck that was absent of jewels or how intensely white her smile was.
Stella wasn't a princess, she was a goddess.
Stella's face began to twitch with how long she held her smile; however, she didn't change it. Beauty is pain. She kept her smile and tried not dwell on it long. Her eyes were focused on Helia. She thought of him as her camera. She wished she could draw as well as he could. It would definitely help when it came to her designs. Stella watched as he continued to paint, she noticed the way he looked at her as he was doing it. She was used to such looks and relished it. For the moment it was a small flicker. She knew that if she wanted, his fire for her could burn brighter than the sun and the moon. Stella wouldn't go that far. She was with Brandon; he was with Flora. For friendship, she could deal with one less admirer.
In three sunsets he was done. Stella looked at her painting and squealed. It was perfect. Stella gladly paid him before staring at the masterpiece completely dazzled. Flora arrived and complimented the portrait as well. Then the nature fairy held hands with the artist and blushed. Stella was the only one paying attention to the painting. It was like she was invisible. Stella didn't like it. She couldn't help, but notice the way Helia looked at Flora. His eyes held such emotion and passion. Flora was his world. Helia didn't look at Stella that way, not even when they were alone for days and his focus given entirely to her. Stella frowned. Maybe, it was petty. Maybe, it was dumb. It didn't matter, Stella wanted Helia to look at her that way. She was going to make sure he did.
Later...
Helia went from being her painter to her adviser. Stella asked him questions about her designs. She asked him about colors and patterns. It made sense; he was an artist. It continued with fabrics. He watched her work her magic when finishing the product. Helia had to admit, Stella had an eye. She was stylish and perceptive. She was also beautiful. No, he would never forget her beauty. She seemed to get lovelier the more they interacted. Sometimes he would ignore her just look at her. Helia could see why Stella was the fairy of the sun. She was out of this world. She was celestial. Over time, Stella dominated his thoughts. His sketchpad was full of sketches of the fairy princess. His camera was full of pictures of her too. It escalate to nudes. They were tasteful and sensual. Helia always chose a basic background. They were both confident that she could outshine any prop. How could she not? Her tan was even. Stella had no scar, blemish or imperfection. Her body looked like it was sculpted from God himself. She had amazing proportions. Her curves were everything woman. He knew every detail of her face and frame. Helia saw more of Stella than the average man could. He was safe from her allure from behind the camera. That's what he told himself. Helia was an artist. Stella was living art.
Helia was just a man. He was a foolish, ungrateful, shallow man. Helia looked across his bed. With a small amount of courage he faced the reddened face that once plagued his thoughts, the tangled blonde tresses he had wanted touch, the naked body he used to crave. That was all in the past. He betrayed his friend, girlfriend, his profession and his art. Helia learned nothing from Icarus. He got too close to the sun. He learned nothing from Dorian Gray. Stella ceased to be perfect the moment he touched her. Just thinking about it made Helia sick.
Stella opened her eyes. Helia looked back at her with eyes of confusion. The more she searched, the more emotion she found; but, it was not the feelings she wanted. She saw regret, pain, and revoltion. There wasn't even a hint of desire. Stella knew it wouldn't help if she fixed her tangled hair, applied makeup, or put on her trendiest outfit. Helia wouldn't look at her again. He shouldn't have in the first place.
She was never beautiful. Only the ugly could do what she did.
(A/N) This was never about their personalities. It was all on outward appearance. Once that illusion fell, Helia realized Stella isn't perfect. Review.
Next Chapter: Lust