Disclaimer: Duh. See chapter one.
Dance My Painting, I'll Paint Your Dancing, Chapter Three.
Gwen knocked lightly on the door. Reshan had called and said that she'd wanted to finish the painting, so here Gwen was, wondering if it was really the painting she wanted to finish. Reshan had tried. . . something on Tuesday night, and had only stopped right before anything had really happened.
Personally, Gwen thought that Reshan had been about to kiss her, but then the painter had stopped, half thrown herself off the couch, and ordered Gwen to leave.
Gwen had obeyed, but only with a strange sense of regret.
Did she actually like Reshan? She was nice and all, but she was a girl. A woman. Homosexuality hadn't really bothered Gwen before, but it hadn't ever really involved her before.
Maybe she should wait and see what Reshan did before deciding anything.
Yes, she resolved. That's exactly what she would do.
The door opened, and a very different Reshan stepped out. She was unsmiling and somber and she was dressed in black. A black gi, to be precise, over a red t-shirt. Gwen was startled.
"Did someone die?" she blurted out.
Reshan's face brightened. "Nah, I just felt like wearing black and red today. More girly."
In Gwen's opinion, Reshan looked more like a boy now than she ever had before. Was Reshan trying to make a point?
Said woman motioned for her to come in and shut the door behind her.
Reshan settled herself backwards on a kitchen chair and Gwen took the couch.
"So…"
"So…"
"Do you, um, want me to finish the painting?" Reshan asked, clearly trying to avoid the subject of the previous night.
"Okay. When?"
"Tomorrow night? I've got an exhibition tonight."
Gwen had an idea. "Can I come? I'd like to see how you work."
"O. . . kay," Reshan said uncertainly."Should I pick you up?"
"Yeah. Unless you want me to meet you- no? Okay, what time?"
"Exhibition's at seven. I'll come for you at six. . . or five, if you want to go out for dinner."
"Dinner," Gwen said firmly. "Formal dress?"
"Semi-formal. It's nothing big. Listen, it's three now, so you probably want to go home and get ready; shower and stuff, right?"
"Yeah. Thanks. See you at five."
"Yeah. . . five."
Gwen left, then, without seeing the nervous look on Reshan's face.
§
"Well, don't we look pretty!"
"Thanks."
Gwen was attired in a simple black skirt and a blue peasant blouse. Her usual gym bag had been replaced by a sleek black-and-blue purse, and her feet were clad in black tie-sandals. Black eyeliner and blue mascara lined her eyes, and her hair was straightened and in a simple bun.
"Really, you look great," Reshan insisted.
"You do, too."
Reshan usually tried to look as androgynous as possible, and tonight was no exception; she stuck to black pressed slacks and a white button-down shirt.
"Where do you want to go for dinner?" she asked Gwen.
"Well, I know there's a nice Chinese place near Broadway; we could go there. My dad used to eat there practically every day when he lived here. That was almost fifteen years straight, and I think they remember me. We can walk; it's close enough."
"Alright."
§
As it turned out, the cook remembered Gwen's father quite well, and gave them free margaritas on the house. An hour later, in good spirits, Reshan had paid the bill and they walked the three or four blocks to the exhibition, arriving at six-twenty-five precisely.
When the doors opened at seven-o-clock sharp, Gwen hung close to Reshan, following her and just making the appropriate sounds when someone commented on one of Reshan's pieces.
"Ah, Reshan," an older man wearing a business suit remarked. "Wonderful piece. Really brilliant."
The piece in question was a painting of a violin being played by two white, long fingered hands on a black background. "Thank you, Mr. D'Agostino. This is a newer one, oil on canvas. The inspiration was my neighbor, Gustavo. He's a violinist with the Broadway show Beauty and the Beast, you know." "Ah," the gentleman remarked wisely.
"Is this your new girlfriend?" he inquired. "Quite lovely."
He lifted Gwen's hand and kissed the back, then moved on without waiting for a reply. Gwen was frozen. Reshan couldn't imagine what was going on inside Gwen's head. Well, actually she could, but none of it was hopeful to Reshan.
She knew her face had to be bright red as she turned to face Gwen.
"That was- amusing," she remarked.
Gwen was beet red. "Did he just say- what I think he said?"
"No," Reshan deadpanned. "He's thought I was a guy all these years and he agrees with my choices in chicks."
"Ha ha- wait, what?"
Reshan just smiled.
§
The following few days were annoyingly awkward. Gwen would come over to work with Reshan, who kept herself as far as humanly possible away from Gwen, so they could avoid a repeat of that first night.
However fate, (A/N: or the authoress) had other plans.
"Um, Reshan?"
"Yes?"
"Er, can you give me your honest opinion on something?"
"Ask away; I fear thee not."
Oh, you will, Gwen mentally told her, and steeled herself.
"Do you…. Do you find me attractive?" she blurted.
Reshan paled. "Uh…. Wow….. I wasn't really expecting that. Ummm…."
"Do you?" Gwen asked desperately, and blushed. She couldn't believe she was asking this.
"Er-" Reshan blushed hotly, then looked away. "Yes, she admitted. "I think you're very attractive." Don't forget hot, her mind added. Shut up! "Why do you ask?"
"I- don't know. I just thought-" she sighed. "I don't know. I just wanted to know, I guess. I'm sorry."
"Ah- don't be. It was an awkward question, but don't worry about it. I won't hit on you or anything." Reshan was still clearly uncomfortable, so Gwen turned the subject to other topics.
They moved on to discussing Gwen's dancing, but not before Gwen caught another one of those weird looks in Reshan's eyes.
"We're almost done with the painting. How do you feel?"
"Great. I think my dancing's really improved."
"When's your next audition?"
"Saturday. God, I hope this worked. I'm so tense that if you pluck me I vibrate… oh that sounded wrong…"
Reshan raised an eyebrow and snorted. "No duh. Are you really that tense, though?"
"Even more. My back is killing me."
"Well, I could do something about that. My sister is a massage therapist, and she taught me a couple of things." Including the popular positions of karma sutra. Yummy.
Shut it!
"O-kay. Right now?"
"If you want, yeah. You'll feel a lot better, I promise." Why was she doing this? It was going to test the very boundaries of her self-control.. Could she deal?
Gwen had already lain down on the couch, so Reshan moved off her chair and over to where Gwen lay.
"Where does it hurt the most?" Reshan prodded Gwen's back and they both hissed, though for different reasons.
She was surprised Gwen could even walk, let alone dance. Her back was so tight!
The dancer should have known to be more careful; she could have torn something if she had actually been in a show, and if your back goes, so does all of your income.
Gently, she started to rub Gwen's back, massaging the tense muscles and working the kinks out. Ever so slowly, Gwen began to relax under her hands. Reshan dropped to her knees beside the couch. This could take a while. Gwen's eyes were closed, and she looked so innocent and trusting. A smile crawled across Gwen's face and Reshan wanted to cry; if only Gwen would smile at her like that.
Her hands moved up to Gwen's shoulders and Gwen tensed.
"It really hurts there," she murmured.
Reshan began to use the pressure points to help relieve tension. (Other pressure points also made for interesting pillow-talk.)
Gwen groaned with the release of tension and Reshan's hands on her shoulders tightened; the feel of her hands on Gwen's body was testing the barriers of her control- and increasing the pressure exponentially.
Reshan leaned down to tell Gwen that she needed to go- before Reshan lost control- Gwen turned her head to say something herself- and their lips met.