Title

by WHITEDYED

250 word drabble about a life before a loved one died, before the paints dried, before the war was really there. No spoilers, and not an Exorcist or a Noah. Title is intentional rofl I'm so uncreative.

A deft hand carried the brush across the canvas, spreading the paint with careful precision. One color after another blended over the stretched fabric, vibrant and alive. The effort and emotion put into it was obvious, hours of tedious working shining through the waters that had been captured from both reality and imagination, preserved there in drying oils.

A smile spread across his face, and he leaned back on his work stool to examine the complete product. Footsteps sounded from behind him, and he turned his head to glance over a shoulder as the door to his room opened. "Another masterpiece!"

It only made his smile grow, and he touched the edges carefully to lift it up. The medium was still drying, but he knew just where to handle it. It was a part of him, his own life and soul contained in it like all the other works that were haphazardly spread about the room. Across walls, propped up against them on the floor, stacked carefully.

"You think so?" he asked, and a warm and happy smile met him in return to his pride that was as bright as the colors.

"I do. You worked so hard on this one! What will you name it?"

There was a thoughtful pause, and he carefully set the painting back down. For a moment he considered it, before grinning and lifting his hands up. Pointers and thumbs held up to frame the picture, he closed one eye. "Title: The Girl Below the Sea."