A/N: Angst is the path of least resistance in my writing, but our dear Hermione deserves some happiness. So, I'm going to wrap up the sad, and the story pretty soon. Thanks for being there. :)
Aug 6th
I spent this last week lost in canvas. Whatever came, I painted. Your profile, Malfoy Manor's ceiling, the lilacs. All of my haunts and wants. I pulled them out of me while you were silently pulling at me. Your owls stopped after my drunken foolery. Is your distance is a kindness?
I remember your gentle reassurance. Your hair was falling over me as my eyes closed.
Aug 7th
I saw Landt's disapproving squint in my mind. This is what always happened. I never wanted to go to my showings. To watch eyes that think they know what they're seeing. But they never know. Landt calls me 4 hours before the opening, then 2 hours. Finally 1 hour before he usually has me worn down. Why do I pay him? Is it because I think he's helping me let go?
I noticed your new portraits were sold before I arrived. I panicked at the loss and cursed my rashness in letting them go. Landt had that smile on his face. I knew that face. It meant that it had been a lucrative night. I grabbed wine and let him introduce me to my patrons. I couldn't say it was hell. I know what hell feels like. But I was miserable all the same.
I wrote to ask if you'd meet me again. I kept pouring myself tea while I waited for your owl. But even tea, an old steady friend, couldn't protect me against nervousness.
Then it came.
Of course.
Staring at those words, I finally let happiness reach the inside of me.
Right now, I do believe I even feel the return of my long-lost crooked grin.