We all know how the tales go. But what if some stories slipped right by you?
Quasimodo and Snow White, individuals on opposite ends of the scale. Snows life dominated by her weak, crumbling father and scheming, devious stepmother. A life in a villa...
Evening dew formed on the trees that surrounded the city. Torches began to burn out, families returned home but the buzz and activity in the bell tower of Norte Dame showed no signs of ending.
"I think some more blue over there" Quasi stated kindly.
"Really? You think?...actually you're right! I see the contrast tree line. It isn't quite all one colour is it?" Snow replied confused. She scratched her head while twiddling her pain brush in the other.
"I-it can seem that way at first but once you just squint your eyes, all becomes clear and the other colours emerge" he said constructively leaning into the canvas.
For the past 3 days all Quasi and Snow had done was discuss and decode what colours went where, how far away things should be on the canvas and get paint on almost every surface of the bell tower.
Once Quasimodo had rung the bells in the morning, they would immediately set to work on drawing out the landscape in pencil first. They set up their stools and sat atop of the south tower and stare out at the view before them. Then when the sun started to set they would venture out again and find the perfect colours from each sky at each night and combine them all together.
This day, Snow had stayed hidden in the bell tower while Quasi spent the morning ringing and polishing the bells. As he had finished by lunch time, they both took a break and took lunch together and by the evening were analysing what colours would look best where.
Sitting around their canvas, they both leaned it close while talking in depth.
"Oh yes! I see it now! Those tree tops 2 nights ago, the hue was much easier to see then. But further down they were edging close to black. The further you get from the horizon, the darker the colours are" Snow replied amazed. Then with the tip of her brush she slowly marked where the black should be.
"H-how about if we mix the darker royal blue w-with the black, that way I-it won't look too harsh?" Quasi asked unsure. He grazed his finger over the paint colours that rested on the desk.
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Smiling at this, she turned from the painting to Quasi who she just stared at.
He caught this out of the corner of his eye and quickly became insecure. Bowing his head modestly before discretely moving an eye upward.
"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare I just...I just..." somehow not knowing the words, Snow turned worryingly from Quasi and fiddled with her apron string.
"N-no no...I-it's fine really....w-what's wrong Snow? Are you alright?" Quasimodo jumped strongly with eyes wide at her apology. Him thinking that she felt bad for his sudden self doubt was preposterous.
"...I very much enjoy our time together Quasimodo....you see the world in a way that I've never been witnessed too before. You don't conform or think it wrong of either of us being different, unique. And your sense of art, light, colour and shape...it's a skill that very few people acquire. Also painting with you...it's one of the greatest joys of my life! You are my best friend Quasi...I-I hope that I can be yours too?" Snow spoke with candour. Eyes welling with emotion as they sat on their stools face to face, smiling triumphantly to him.
