chiaroscuro extras

finger-painting

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"Jus' keep still, petal, 'm trying to do what y'asked."

Harry let out a huff against (Y/N)'s neck as she sat on his lap. Her bottom lip was held between her teeth as she tried her best to bite back a smile, the hand holding her borrowed paintbrush shaking with silenced laughter.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized, not sounding as contrite as she probably should, "What next?"

Harry sighed behind her, the noise coming out much more affectionate than she's sure he intended. He never had it in himself to be mad at her for longer than it took for her heartbeat to think in his ears. The cool of his palm wrapped around her wrist, fingers directing her movements. "Y'wanna keep the strokes light if y'don't want the scene to appear heavy. Be gentle with the paint, y'can always add more but its much harder to take any amount away."

(Y/N) distractedly followed his instructions, not doing nearly as good of a job as he would. He was teaching her to paint, one of her small requests now that she didn't have much to do around the manor since she wasn't commissioned to clean the whole place everyday. He didn't let her do much cooking or cleaning around their home, citing the fact that it was now his job to take care of her since he was her bonded. (Y/N), while endeared by the now instinctual need he had to do any and everything for her, was just bored. Harry had been ecstatic when she voiced her request, telling her he was ready right then and there to show her everything she wanted to learn. He told her he was going to make her the next Botticelli, making works to rival his old mentors'. She didn't really have any intent of taking it that seriously, just wanting to do something to pass the time, especially when Harry was working, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

Now, a week after she'd asked him for his expertise, they now had the time to sit down for the lesson Harry had been putting together over the past seven days. He'd tucked her into his lap after setting up in his studio, having an easel and palette ready with the homemade box she had gifted him for his birthday filled with his brushes. The aim was to create something rather simple, focusing more on technique and getting her used to the medium than anything else as they fleshed out a springtime mountain scene. (Y/N) very, very quickly learned that painting... wasn't her strong suit, to say the least.

Harry was ever the patient instructor, only getting a bit frustrated when she would get squirmy with giggles on his lap over how the scene was turning out (especially this duck she had painted into the pond in the foreground of the piece. Poor thing had a crooked bill and one eye large enough to tip him over if he wasn't careful). She was sure he was seeing exactly what she did: an awful lumping of color that resembled that of a child's rendition of what the outside world was. It didn't bother her much, some people could just click with painting and do well at it—like Harry—and some people just did it for fun. She figured she would be someone who just does it for fun.

With Harry's guiding hand upon hers, they finished off the first layer of paint. He told her he wanted to allow the layers of paint to dry between sessions, not sure she was ready for the alla prima technique, so she was relieved when he backed them off from the canvas and called it.

The brushes were put in the cup of water they had waiting so they could clean up together, (Y/N) taking care of the less consequential things while Harry ensured the painting had a safe place to dry.

"Sorry I'm so bad," (Y/N) laughed, not taking the session quite as seriously as Harry had. She swirled the brushes in the water, creating a spiral of color within the liquid, dominated mostly by the shimmering white they'd used for majority of the session.

"Petal, you are not bad, y'may need more practice, but there is nothing wrong with that. Soon enough, I will have to start taking down m'pieces and replace them with yours, might even have to go into business together," Harry compliments, really laying it on thick with a soft smile on his face as he looked at her over his shoulder. The rudimentary painting was now tucked away safely until the next time Harry dared to teach her what comes after the first layer.