Eternal Love

Voids of Color

Leo stepped back from the easel, gazing at the finished portrait. Lush chestnut curls tumbled over the woman's bare shoulders, contrasting beautifully with her emerald eyes that stared invitingly back at him. Though only a painting, Leo felt a profound connection to this lovely subject.

Leo stood back, sighing. "My muse, how I wish I could speak to you beyond canvas and paint."

"If only you were real," he whispered.

Exhausted, Leo collapsed into bed without even cleaning his brushes.

The next morning, Leo awoke to the sound of gentle humming coming from downstairs. Heart pounding, he rushed to investigate—and froze. There in his kitchen stood the woman from his painting, just as vibrant and lovely, preparing tea.

"Good morning, Leo," she smiled warmly.
"My name is Evangeline."

"It's...it's you," Leo stammered.
"But how? Am I dreaming?"

Evangeline smiled gently. "No Leo, you've brought me to life with your gift. We are fated to be together, if you'll have me."

Shock gave way to awe as Leo realized she had somehow come to life. As they spoke over the next few days, he learned about this miraculous woman who seemed to return his affections. Evangeline was as gracious and kind as Leo had imagined when he painted her. He vowed to protect her from a world that could never understand their love.

Each night Leo dreamed of Evangeline, visions of her pleading for him to join her in an idyllic world. During the day, he desperately tried to capture these scenes on canvas, waiting anxiously to see if any harm would befall his beloved muse as a result. But morning after morning, Evangeline appeared completely unscathed—not a single bruise or mark on her flawless skin.

"Tell me again my love, what is your world like?" Leo asked.

Evangeline's eyes lit up as she described shimmering seas and skies of impossible color.

As the days passed, Leo became utterly enraptured by her, barely leaving his studio. Again and again he painted visions of Evangeline in fantastical, impossible settings—soaring over breathtaking alien vistas, strolling through landscapes of light and color. Yet no matter what wondrous sights he depicted, Evangeline would simply gaze at him adoringly when she appeared each day, untroubled and untouched.

Leo grew frustrated—why did these visions not manifest themselves on Evangeline? He longed to truly experience the magical realm they shared in his dreams.

Leo frowned in frustration. "Why can't I bring your realm to life?"

"Do not worry, my darling," Evangeline soothed.
"What we share goes deeper than art."

As his desperation increased, Leo conjured ever more elaborate scenes on canvas, determined to transport himself and his love to these worlds.

But the more he painted, the more distant Evangeline seemed. The wistful look in her emerald eyes told Leo that no matter how vividly he captured her likeness on canvas, he could not recreate what they shared. His heart sank as he realized that his hopeless efforts to bring his art to life were only driving Evangeline away.

One night, as Leo lamented over his latest unsatisfying painting, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Evangeline gazing at him with an understanding smile.

"It's time, my love," she said softly.
"Come with me now to my world, where what we share cannot be contained on any canvas."

"Come with me and see wonders." Evangeline urged, hand outstretched.

Leo trembled with joy. "I'm ready. Take me to our forever."

Leo took her hand, tears of gratitude and relief welling in his eyes. As they stepped into the painting, the living world peeled away, giving way to the surreal majesty of Evangeline's realm. Colors and shapes Leo had no name for dazzled his senses, and his heart overflowed at the visceral joy of simply existing in this space with his one true love.

At last, Leo understood—this miracle had never been about his art, but their bond. No painting could capture the full wonder of what Evangeline offered. The streams of colors that reflected their emotions and being. Though their worlds were different, their souls had always been entwined. She was more than a muse.

Finally, they were home.

In actuality- Leo collapsed at his desk, gazing at the portrait as his eyes fluttered closed for the final time.

But death was not the end for Leo.

Evangeline, more radiant than ever took his hand and walked him through their shared world in the canvas.

His devotion had transcended mortality; he had painted his way into paradise, to dwell with his lover.

But as time went on, Leo felt uneasy.

The colors seemed garish, the landscape unstable. Evangeline's beauty took on a sinister edge. Leo finally understood this was no paradise, but a twisted mockery of one. In chasing the impossible, he had damned himself to an eternity of unreality.

Yet there was no way out of the canvas.

Leo could only exist in the warped realm he had created, ensnared by his obsession forevermore.