⁶⁹tanzanite stars on collarbones

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clementine

Delicately, Nat folds the green over the white and presses them together with the palette knife, dragging and mixing them on the glass table palette.

She'd knocked on my door a couple hours ago with curry dinner in a pot, paint-stained dungarees on, and a cheeky grin when she said she wanted to share her dinner with me since she'd "overcooked". Liar, I thought, narrowing my eyes at her when she acted surprised that Luke was there.

It didn't make her curry less tasteful, however. Luke managed to scoff down twice of what I had, passing out into a food coma just an hour later.

Nat was quite proud with how much he liked her dinner but swore she'd never make one again because "turmeric is messy business".

She stayed and offered to help me with my current painting by mixing the colours. It's nothing for work, just a side project that's a little more Impressionistic compared to my usual style.

I watch her hand create a soft, pastel colour, sweet and minty as it becomes more and more as it is meant to be. After a few seconds of making sure the paint's all melded and mixed, she scoops it up sharply by the edge of the knife and places it neatly at the end of the short row of other colours.

"Damn, that looks yummy," She says under her breath, wiping the knife on my painting rag and kneeling her elbows on my desk, captivated eyes following my brush and what textures and colours it leaves at its wake.

I hum in concentration, adding to the buzzing silence around us this evening. "Don't do that please, I need them," I quietly follow, taking some of the green she made into my brush and applying it on the painting, creating an abstract shape I've yet to form into something more concrete. "Though can you make a desaturated pastel pink?"

When I glance at her, she's squinting at the colours, confusion and determination clear on her features. "So... that is..." She points at the white then pink. "Those two, and then... black,"

"Green," I correct, which she nods at.

"Yeah, green," She repeats.

"Just a little,"

"Very little," She bobs her head and steals a swipe of white paint from the blob on the corner of the palette, placing it on the mixing area, making her start of the requested colour. "I don't know how that makes sense, but okay,"

My gaze makes its way past her and onto the sleeping man on my couch, cocooned in my blanket and snoring away with a half-opened mouth, Darth splayed in a similar fashion right on top of him.

A smile comes to me before I return to my painting, staring for a few seconds to remember where I'd left off.

"Is this enough?" Nat asks, swiping some of the colour up on the knife and showing it to me. "More green? Less green? 'Nuff green?" She keeps her voice low, aware of Luke's unconscious presence behind us, light snores escaping his mouth.

I view the colour underneath the harsh white light of my painting lamp, shading a part of it away from the paint so as not to see any reflections. I squint at the fair colour. "Hm... more green? Just a tiny bit,"

She returns the swipe of paint back onto the palette and adds on more green, though slight in amount, the pigment works strongly as it brings the colour down even further.

"Clem?" She mutters lowly, her concentration clear through her voice. "Can I ask you for a favour?"

As I mix the colours, I give a slight nod. "Yeah?"

She hesitates, and I see it by the way she shifts her shoulders, pursing her lips. But she finally gives in. "So, um, tomorrow... can you come with me to this jewellery store?" She fiddles with the knife a bit, shifting it in her hand as though her holding position isn't comfortable.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓Where stories live. Discover now