Not Your Type (Chris Pine FanFic)

Vincent Van Gogh

"I didn't realize his art was so dark," Chris stated, staring at The Potato Eaters.  Chelsea didn't respond.  She was enamored by each piece of Van Gogh's work.  With absolute attention, she read the small plaques even though Chris was certain she already knew every tidbit of information it was providing.  

"Van Gogh lived a pretty dark life."

"Wasn't he crazy?"  Chris turned and looked at her.  Chelsea was still staring directly at the dark painting.  A family in deep shades of black and brown, was seated around a table.  There was nothing beautiful about the painting. The faces were grotesque. It lacked the overly thick brushes of paint Van Gogh was so popularly famous for.  

"That's one theory." 

"It makes sense.  There's nothing beautiful about this picture,"  Chris noted the very dull colors and the ugly family, their features accentuated in the shadows Van Gogh had created.   Chelsea tilted her head as she listened to what he said. 

"Yeah, it's not beautiful. But if you want a painting like that from near this era you should look at Renoir.  He specifically painted beautiful people.  There are paintings named "sisters" and the like that are not actually sisters but commissioned models.  Vincent did the opposite.  He found the beautiful, finite details in the mundane and ordinary.  Supposedly, he considered this to be one of his most successful pieces of art.  There are multiple, including a lithograph."  Chris couldn't take his eyes off her.  It was amazing to him how knowledgeable about art she was.  The words, as if from a textbook, flowed freely off her tongue.  "I read a book once, The Last Van Gogh,  that was a fictionalized account of his life.  The author made it like he painted this while he was a missionary near the coal mines.  Which is a fact," finally she peeled her eyes off the painting nad made eye contact with Chris, "Vincent was a missionary, if you can believe it.  And I'd like to believe the dark experience of living on so little caused some of his earlier, darker paintings. What?" 

Chris smiled. "Nothing."

"Am I boring you? I'm boring you. I'm sorry.  I told you, I'm obsessed."   She slid her hand into his, loosely lacing her small fingers between each of his. "We can move on."  Chelsea tugged lightly at him and started to walk to the next area, but Chris didn't move.  "It's ok," she said reassuringly, "We can go."

"You didn't seem like you were finished.  I mean," he tilted his head again, "I don't get it, but if you want to stay.  We stay. Let's look at people eating potatoes."  

"No really, it's ok. There's a lot more to see."  

Gradually they made their way out of the room full of the dark paintings from Van Gogh's earliest years. They moved into a room full of portraits.  Slowly and methodically she guided Chris from one face to another.  Chelsea had a tight grip on his hand, her other hand folded neatly behind her back. Chris looked down at her as she moved in closer to the painting.  The fingers intertwined with his twitched and he let go. "No, no."  Quickly she squeezed his hand.  "Don't let go."

Surprised by the sudden outburst of sentimentality he asked, "Why?" 

"I almost got kicked out of The Getty for almost touching the Van Gogh."  

Chris laughed, "And here I thought you just wanted to hold my hand." 

Chelsea grinned, but didn't take her eyes off of the self-portrait of Van Gogh.  "Oh, it's nice," she said flippantly, "but I seriously just wanted to touch the paint...  I know, I know it's behind glass.  I still," her hand twitched again, "I just want to touch it.  The thickness.  The fact that he could create something that actually favors real life using so much paint.  So much paint!  No wonder he was poor and didn't eat.  Can you imagine the money he spent on tubes of paint?"  Chris gave her an amused look and they moved on.