The dawn came as it always did. Every morning he woke to the chill of the winter, knowing he had been somewhere much warmer the night before, made him want to roll over and go back to blissful unconsciousness.
He lay in bed, mind wandering to yesterday, reveling in the new memories he had to dwell on. The silence in his room, only punctuated by car noises below, didn't help his mind slip into insanity. The small, rational part of his mind told him to get up and shake it off, but the larger part of him said to throw the doors wide open and to get his sketchbook out before her naked form was lost to time.
It was maybe five minutes of pondering that thought when he finally dug out under his bed a mostly full, fairly large sketch pad with attached pencil. He flipped to a blank page, the blanket and pad fighting for space to cover his legs, and stared at it. He pulled her face from his mind, seeing the darkness of her hair contrasted with the paleness of her fair skin...of all her skin. He harshly swallowed as the form underneath his body came to mind, heart picking up the pace as he felt adrenaline surge a little in his veins.
Without thinking, of knowing where he was anymore, he picked up his pencil and brought to life the vision in his mind of her laying under him, head thrown back, eyes rolled in the back of her head as he moved against her.
The only thing that took the edge off, that even reminded him where he was at that second, was a sudden knock on the door. He jumped, pencil making a disgusting mark across her perfect body and the shading that brought her curves off the page to him. He tried to catch his breath, heart racing for more reasons than one, as he tried to locate the pencil which flew from his hand somewhere on his bed.
The door opened before he could collect himself. Green eyes met hazel and all he could do was stare at his sister and the knowing, slightly annoyed look quickly twist her features.
The huge sigh said that she had seen everything and knew exactly what he was doing. "If you're quite done with your latest 'project', breakfast is ready before you head to work."
He followed her eyes down and quickly covered himself with the pad with a slight cringe. He didn't bother with excuses or explanations because his twin already knew everything and had seen the same thing before. It didn't help the mortification die completely though.
He was silent for the longest time, only managing a meek nod. "I'll...be down in a few minutes..." He mumbled, face hotter than the sun.
She sighed again. He noted the look on his sister's face change once, twice, before she shook her head. "Nope...I'm not even going to get into it this early in the morning. I'm not even going to take on that aggravation right now." He watched her hands wave around, one of them rub her temples as if his life was giving her a massive headache. She turned and shut the door behind her without another word, though he could hear her grumbling to herself as she headed from his room.
He stared at the door, feeling only slightly embarrassed and sighed at it all. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say, to change time and erase what his sister just saw. Her annoyance only spoke to him that she knew exactly where he had been yesterday and with whom, though she was out when he left for Marinette's.
She would know because he had told her everything that was going on. The outburst was her way of trying to stay out of it instead of saying the exact same thing that he ignored every time.
He felt bad for his sister, to whom he told so much, and ignored so much of what she said. All of her advise and good intentions had gone unheeded for the past year and she now only came to him and listened when he cloistered himself in his room, painting his sorrows away.
Finally feeling well enough to stand, he put the book away and got his work clothes on. He fixed the tie to his liking and headed from his room, making sure to shut the door behind him. He was graciously granted his own space and thus didn't want to put all the paint fumes in the rest of his house and burden his mother and sister.
Speaking of...
He stopped and accepted the kiss on his cheek, giving one in return with full feeling. "Good morning mother." He greeted in German.
"Good morning Nathaniel." His mother returned, also using German. She patted his shoulder before moving to put more food, his he assumed, on the table. "Did you sleep well? Your breakfast is ready. Are you working at nine again?"
He sat down with a nod, thanking his mother for her help. "I am. I have a few new paintings to bring to the cafe." He smiled her way, knowing she'd be pleased. "The owner said that someone bought a few of my landscapes."
"Oh how wonderful!" She gushed, giving him a hug from behind. Her arms loosely squeezed his neck, being sure not to muss his clothes. "I'm so proud of you Nathaniel. Your friend was right; that place is paying off."
He sheepishly nodded and concentrated on his food as he listened to his mother go on about how happy she was that "his work was starting to get distributed around Paris for all" and that "people would finally see his talents as she saw them". His cheeks heated a little, though the praise was enough to shake him from the previous day and come back to his home for now.
"I thought you'd like to know." He responded, smile growing a little more. "I know how you asked me to keep you updated."
A hand patted his shoulder. "That has been the best news this morning and I shall take it with me to work all day."
"To which it's almost eight mother."
The woman jumped at his sister's announcement and went for the coat hanger near the door. "I'm off for the day you two. Have a good morning and afternoon, and I'll see you for dinner."
"I've got a new recipe I just received from a friend." He quickly reported, causing his mother to pause at the front door. "I'll take care of dinner tonight mother."
The woman smiled and closed the door after another round of well-wishes for their day.
"A recipe from a friend, huh? I can only imagine exactly whose parents you got that from..."
He ignored the slight sarcasm and turned back around to face the mildly irritated, yet somewhat concerned look of his sister. He took a bit of his food, trying to choice his words, before giving up and going with honesty. "I saw Marinette yesterday and ate dinner with her parents."
"Ahhh...I wondered about that note." She replied, propping her chin up on the table. A chunk of apple took up the silence for only a moment, but the wheels were obviously spinning behind her eyes. "That had better be worth it, little brother."
"That" didn't necessarily mean the impromptu recipe he got from a dinner he suddenly attended. He knew what she meant and he took a long inhale, followed by a sigh that spoke of his entire afternoon up until now.
He didn't need to say anything after that, but felt he needed to anyway. "It always is." He mumbled, closing the topic by going back to his food.
Maybe twenty minutes later, he had on his coat and shoes and was heading out with his new parcels for work. The walk to the cafe was relatively short. He entered through the glass and wood doors, closed now due to the cold of the season, and greeted his co-workers.
He looked around at the few morning stragglers wanting to enjoy a day out from their own homes as he headed to the back to put his coat away. After the short detour, he returned up front, clad in a white shirt and black vest combo. He looked around, idly smoothing the tie under his vest and looking around the all-wooden walls and ceiling that made up his workplace.
La Palette. Cafe of good food, good drink, an attraction to famous artists and art students, and a whole lot of artwork all over the walls.
Especially HIS artwork.
He looked around for the blank spots where his pieces used to angle down over the customers, wondering exactly which ones were sold. The owner only said that two of the landscapes were gone. He saw two blank spots and remembered that the Moet-style works he had painted, each depicting an afternoon with Marinette, would no longer be there for him to reflect upon during slow hours. Both were portrayed the spring, with her in a dress and facing away from him. He rather liked those, but put them up for sale anyway only because he needed the money.
Not like it couldn't be redone though.
Any painting of her, or one that he felt depicted her somehow, he was loathe to get rid of. They were personal memories that he put to canvas and thus could relive anytime he wanted to. He didn't want to get rid of most of them, but the more vague ones could actually be sold to the public and he did so sometimes.
A lot of paintings that he dared show to the public had her essence in them, even if the model didn't always have black hair and blue eyes. Most of them weren't the erotic ones that he kept for himself; a lot of them were basic times they had spent doing nothing or hanging out somewhere. The subtle agony of his works was that her face was never, or hardly, seen because of her being out of his reach in so many ways. The ones where he pictured her face were under his bed.
If she ever knew that the model he put in the pictures was always her, she may just stop talking to him for real. He knew that no amount of flattery or explanation would be enough to calm her embarrassment at knowing her face, even blurred through paint, was sitting in some room in a residency of Paris...watching who knew what. Whenever he was conscious of what he made, he would purposely make the female with different colored hair so she didn't suspect anything if she ever found it.
The first few hours of his shift that day were light. A few elderly, some housewives getting out of the house, and a few college students who didn't have class were his usual customers. He kind of liked the lighter hours because he got to chat with some of them, the elderly ladies and gentlemen especially, which he rather liked. Some of the college students he could tell were art majors and thus he had some fun talking about his experiences at Sorbonne.
The small group of girls that came in around noon, however, he didn't ever expect to see.
"There he is!"
"Awesome dude, you're working right now. She was right."
"I'm always right. He's not hard to predict."
He blinked at Marinette, who was surrounded by Juleka, Rose, and Mylene. He could only gape a little as he stared with the bar separating his friends and ex-girlfriend. The group stopped against the wood and leaned on it, smiling his way in his stupor.
"So...can we get a table or what?"
He blinked as Juleka brought him to himself and quickly nodded. Pasting on a business smile, he hurried around the bar and turned. "This way please, Mademoiselles." He ignored Rose's giggle and held a chair open to the four-seater table. "Will this do?"
The trio quickly made their way for their own chairs, leaving the one he had pulled open for Marinette to take. The two locked eyes, the gesture from their friends not lost on them. He tried not to get flustered as she blushed and looked down demurely for a moment. She finally nodded and took the last spot.
He barely had time to collect himself, let alone ask just why they were here, when coffee orders started coming at him. He reiterated each order after receiving the three and looked down. "And for you, Mademoiselle?"
Rose giggled again as a hand fidgeted with the tuft of hair in front of Marinette's ear. "I'll just have an au lait..." She almost whispered.
He gave a small, playful bow and headed away to collect everything. It wasn't until he was setting everything on a tray that he remembered his earlier words to Marinette.
"Coffee sounds nice. Hopefully when most of my Christmas orders are out of the way, I'll schedule an entire afternoon of no work and no school just for my Sorbonne classmates."
His lips twitched. If he knew her, and he liked to think he did well, she felt so bad for ignoring everyone for so long and texted everyone about that coffee he suggested. He just knew the rest of his friends were so surprised and happy that they cleared out their schedules immediately.
He set each cup before his friend, listening to their chatter as he did so. He answered the questions directed to him, especially the ones concerning his ability to get time off while they were there so they could all eat lunch together.
"I suppose I could check, since I've been working for a while now."
"Good. But before you go, could you please get us our food ordered?"
The pad he whipped out, pencil poised for writing, gave them their answer. He wrote down the small spread they started playfully arguing about who was going to pay for, and promised things would be out as soon as possible. Given that it was only slightly busy, he didn't figure it would take too long.
He headed to the back and passed the order along to the cooks. He then headed for his co-workers and mentioned his situation and asked what they thought. He didn't figure it would be too difficult since he planned on staying in uniform should he be needed and he wasn't leaving for food.
Five minutes later, he was bringing himself his own au lait to the table when he realized a small problem.
The table was for four people, with only four chairs.
He ignored Juleka's banter about who he should share seats with and grabbed one from the unused table across the way. He turned it to the corner of the table where he'd be most out of the way and gave her a small grin. "Problem solved." He mused, picking up his cup.
The next fifteen minutes dissolved into questioning Marinette about exactly what she had been doing for an entire season away from them all. The trio barraged her with so many questions, he interjected a few answers so she could at least have her coffee before it went cold.
A big mistake, considering six pairs of eyes looked his way when he answered for her.
"And how are you doing so far?"
He tried not to sweat under the knowing, slightly sympathetic, and overly curious stares. He picked up the cup and stared at the remaining liquid. "Two of my paintings just sold." He side-stepped, taking a quick drink and getting their attention to the rest of the room. He pointed to the blank spaces which he would fill later, explaining what they were.
"Oh, I liked that one." Rose gushed, dreamy look on her face. "It had a good feel to it. Very wistful and romantic."
"You think most things are romantic." Juleka teased, an elbow lightly going into her girlfriend's side.
"I agree with Rose; I liked it too." Marinette sympathized, giving a congenial smile. "Your art is always so well-done and you never cease to dig into that huge well of talent that you possess to create something new."
He cleared his throat, feeling his face heat a little, and purposely kept the details of that painting a secret from her.
After maybe twenty more minutes of small talk, he stood to check on the food. Most of them were almost done and so he waited around, setting them on a serving tray when finished to bring out to his friends.
He arranged the plates in the center as much as possible for easy access to all. With encouragement that he dig in, he accepted the invite with the promise that he would throw in a few Euro to help them out.
Most of the talk died down as everyone sampled chunks of cheese, herb-drizzled tomatoes, dipped various breads in creme spreads, took small pieces of cut fish, and speared forks into apple chunks. Everyone battled for space as their forks intersected at random times for the same piece of food. Banter ensued for a few seconds every time before smoothing itself out.
This was nice, but in a bittersweet, nostalgic way. He hadn't hung out with this group since Sorbonne and they hung around campus for homework. Though the thought tried to crush his happiness, he purposely threw it to the recesses of his mind in order to enjoy the moment. Everyone, save Marinette, was out of school with their own jobs or careers and it was hard to get together like this; it was best to bypass reality for days gone by, even a little while.
Two o'clock rolled around faster than he ever thought it would. His co-workers didn't kick out his friends until it was time to clean their table. The group rose as one, putting on their winter wear as they gave apologies for staying into closing hours. He denied them all, saying that there was much more work to do before everyone left and that he had new paintings to hang for their next arrival anyway. That got everyone rooted to their spots until they got to see which ones he was showcasing next.
He gave a quick look to Marinette, trying to be as subtle as possible, before agreeing that he would show everyone before they left.
He felt like fidgeting the entire time he held up the fairly large canvases to everyone to check out, his eyes constantly straying to Marinette. He worried she was going to say something and her opinion meant a lot to him, but...these were for sale after all...
The first was in water color. It wasn't very elaborate nor very obscure. It was a simple, yet detailed design of a woman's eyes, nose, mouth, and brows.
With deep blue eyes.
The face was sharp and intelligent. She looked your way telling you that she was not one to fool with and any attempt to do so would be met with retribution. Through the warning, there was a tilt to the corners of the mouth that spoke of underlying mischief and gaiety.
He hoped she didn't notice too much that he had painted her face and tried to hide the rest of her features to keep it from being too noticeable.
The second, more daring oil pastel, was less blended and much choppier than the watercolor counterpart. It was more noticeably sad and much closer to the blue eyes that were the only solid thing in a sea of jerky swatches of paint. The gender was less visible; the main point was a pair of eyes as stormy as a blue sea.
The eyes he painted to show how she looked at him whenever she realized what she did to him after they met up.
He ignored the comments and compliments from his friends, focusing only on the one whom he really needed validation from. His eyes kept darting from her to his friends, finally seeing her looking at him with a slightly unreadable look on her face.
"I like the first one. It's a pretty woman."
"But there's much more expression in the eyes-only portrait. You can feel the sadness radiate off the canvas."
"What do you think, Marinette?"
She shook herself and looked to him with a small smile, cheeks reddening. "I...I think that...you had...quite the model to use for your paintings..." She stuttered, pointedly keeping her eyes off their friends'. The tightness in the corners of her mouth showed how displeased she was.
His mouth clamped shut on the response he wanted to give, clearing his throat and only nodding.
Of course she knew...how could she not know her own reflection? Even if the oil was harder to discern, she was too smart to not suspect the second one also about her. Considering she had been his model in art school, it was too easy to assume he still painted her, though he never showed her any of his sketches over last year.
"We should get going..." Mylene butt in, gently tugging on Marinette's coat. "Everyone is staring at us."
He looked past those immediately surrounding him and found expectant, somewhat irritated eyes his way. "Thanks for everything, Mademoiselles. I'll show you out." He left the canvases for all to see as he abandoned his work and edged to the front. He held the door open and watched them exit, his breath fogging in the cold.
Marinette stopped for the briefest seconds, lips inches from his ear. "We'll talk about this in depth later, Monsieur."
He mentally cringed at the stony tone, knowing that she was probably going to give him an earful for showcasing her face. He knew she didn't like to be in the public eye like that. She was critical of herself and shy; even though she had an internationally successful business.
But...that did mean she was going to talk to him later...
His lips twitched at the prospect. "I'll keep my phone on so you can yell at me whenever you want, Marinette. Should I come over to your dorm again?"
She flushed red, but huffed and then the second was gone. She stopped with the group and paused for only a second before picking herself up and waving him a goodbye.
Cafe: cafelapaletteparis com/en/
Lunch spread: oubruncher com/photos1/3501_1 jpg?v=1479398335586bdfd6bd126
Painting 1: s-media-cache-ak0 pinimg com/736x/08/7e/2f/087e2fec34aa2f7d1b689564242730d8 jpg
Painting 2: i ytimg com/vi/fDxYS8GGR3E/hqdefault jpg